


Cherophobia

by BogginsofEternalStench (TeaBagginsFromtheOak), TeaBagginsFromtheOak



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Abuser!Smaug, Abusive Relationship, Aggressive behavior towards sweet fluffs, Angst, Bottom!Thorin, Cop!Dwalin, Court Case, Determined!Thorin, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Forced Starvation, Gaslighting, Highly Inflammatory Remarks, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, In which Erebor is actually Bilbo, Law, M/M, Modern Setting, Not between Bilbo and Thorin, Savior!Thorin, Sexual Abuse, Short chapters but frequent updates, Slow Burn, Stalking, SurprisingTop!Bilbo, Vomiting-graphic, Vulgar Language, WannabeLawyer!Smaug, Will tag triggers, abused!Bilbo, badass!bilbo, eventually, except chapter 16, large playlist if anyone was wondering, legal chapter, mental and physical abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 39,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaBagginsFromtheOak/pseuds/BogginsofEternalStench, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaBagginsFromtheOak/pseuds/TeaBagginsFromtheOak
Summary: If you throw a frog into a pot of boiling hot water it will jump out, but if set it in cold water and slowly heat it up it will stay until it dies. This is how abusive relationships begin.__Bilbo had been happy, he knew that. He was frankly surprised when this god of a man asked him out to dinner after a coincidental run in at the market, but after two years he didn't know if he stayed out of fear or because he didn't know any way out.That was until a man with dazzling blue eyes picked him up on the side of the road after one of Smaug's outbursts.





	1. Landslide

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys this is inspired by the song Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, my favorite song of all time I figured I would write an angsty story around these two dorks. This is going to be full of drama and I will be sure to tag when mentions of abuse are in the chapter, but I promise this will have a happy ending just holdout on me.
> 
> *Warning*  
> Rape/Non-con  
> Abuse  
> Vomit

The air was warm, but the rain was bone chilling and Bilbo shuddered as the gravel and the mud made it difficult to walk in a straight line. The road was barely used, so he didn’t fear cars splashing him or hitting him. He berated himself for not grabbing a jacket as he bolted out of the house. As the road began to narrow, the edge of the road began to steep. The wind and the rain picked up and blinded him.

_“Get back here, Bilbo Baggins!” Smaug hollered after him, his voice rising enough to shake the pictures on the wall. Bilbo had tears in his eyes and bolted out the door._

_Earlier that day Bilbo had been at work, he joked between his coworkers about something vague, but there wasn’t much feeling behind the mirth. He bid his coworkers farewell and headed out the door. He knew at this pace he would be home with ten minutes to spare. If he didn’t run into any long lights he might even make it in fifteen. He felt a growing sense of anxiety as he watched his phone every few seconds to check the time. Bilbo felt his heartbeat rise and his pace quickened. He nearly sprinted the last stretch to his house. The walk wasn’t far from work to his house. Smaug made sure of that. He had suggested that he find a job close to his house. He said it would be easier than having Smaug drive him around everywhere. Bilbo tried to advise him to let him get a vehicle, something a friend was more than willing to give him, but Smaug denied his pleas. He claimed that they didn’t need two cars and wasting money on gas when Bilbo worked down the street at a small coffee shop where they didn’t have a lot of customers._

_The walking had done Bilbo **some** good. It helped him keep his weight low. He was shaking when he keyed the door open and walked in. His anxiety dimming, until he saw Smaug at the end of the hallway. A bouquet of crinkled flowers on the side table by the door.  Bilbo picked them up and gave them a once over. They smelled fresh and slightly of the oncoming storm. Smaug stepped out of the shadows and came up in front of Bilbo._

_“What are these for?” Smaug was silent for a second. His eyes smoldering._

_“I went by the coffee shop to give them to you, but they said you were busy.” His voice sounded strained. Bilbo sniffed them again and smiled._

_“They’re beautiful.” Smaug didn’t return his smile. His towering presence took another step towards Bilbo._

_“What were you so busy with that you couldn’t see me?” His voice broke a little like he was going to cry. Bilbo racked his brain, but he couldn’t have thought of anything that he might have been doing. Smaug grabbed Bilbo’s wrist in a tight squeeze. Bilbo yelped and his anxiety spiked. Smaug loosened his hold, but Bilbo continued to shake. His hand moved to his bicep and joined by his other arm. Bilbo attempted to relax as he looked at Smaug’s eyes and they were soft.  Bilbo still had the flowers between them._

_“Bofur had me showing a new kid around the shop and how to – “ Smaug’s eyes blazed and in an instant had Bilbo pressed against the door, his neck snapping back and his head hitting the door making his eyes blur._

_“I bet you were showing him around. You little slut!” Bilbo gasped at the accusation. He tried to interject, but it only invoked more of Smaug’s anger. “Get your coworkers to cover for you while he covers you with his filthy cock!” Smaug squeezed harder on Bilbo’s upper arm and he held back tears which he knew Smaug was expecting. Smaug pressed him harder against the door and Bilbo squirmed under the tension on his back. The carvings in the door digging into his back. Suddenly Smaug threw him into the hallway and Bilbo barely had time to catch himself before he hit the floor. He braced himself on all  fours. As he was about to get up when he was pulled onto his knees with his back pressed against Smaug’s front._

_“Smaug –“ Bilbo whimpered, shaking. His head and wrist throbbing. Smaug had him trapped between his legs and his arms around his chest, holding his arms. Bilbo could barely breath and his heart hammered in his chest._

_“Put out for me like you put out for him.” Smaug sneered in his ear and used one hand to hold him and the other to begin to unbutton Bilbo’s pants. Bilbo begged and cried out, but Smaug continued and shoved his pants below his thighs. Smaug had one arm around Bilbo’s entire chest and used his free hand to free himself. Bilbo whimpered, his tears staining his work shirt. Smaug was whispering something in Bilbo’s ear, but he didn’t hear any of it. His face was pressed into the abrasive carpet of the hallway and tried to ignore the searing pain of his ass. Smaug’s hands dug into Bilbo’s ribcage from where he was being held by Smaug’s arm. Bilbo closed his eyes and bit his lip until he could taste blood_

He coughed to get the water out of his nose to avoid drowning in the onslaught of rain. Bilbo’s teeth chattered and he shook his head to try and shake the water from his eyes, but as he attempted to right himself the gravel gave out on the steep slope and he slid down the side of the road. With a cry he tumbled head first into the gulley. Gravel and mud got into his mouth and he vomited to resist suffocating. Thunder clapped over him and he tried to climb out of the ravine. He thought he heard someone calling after him, but the thunder blared out anything. Suddenly Bilbo felt arms around him and he panicked. He began to thrash and finally a voice filled his ears.

“It’s alright. I’m trying to help.” The man didn’t sound like Smaug. Bilbo slumped against the other man as he slung his arm around Bilbo’s shoulder. They both trudged through the mud and peeked over the curve of the road. There was a car on the side of the road, lights and windshield wipers still on. The man reached over to the passenger door, but Bilbo began to thrash again. “Hey! Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The man continued to hold on as Bilbo thrashed.

“Let me go! I don’t need a ride I’m fine!” Bilbo screamed. The man held onto him in case he fell.

“Let me take you somewhere, please.” He sounded sincere.  Bilbo wasn’t sure if he was shaking from the cold or from his anxiety. Bilbo calmed down enough to be gently placed into the car. Wincing as he was placed in the car at the soreness between his legs and the pounding in his head. As the man backed away he moved to close the door, but Bilbo held the door open as he retched on the side of the road. The man jumped away for a second before he walked up to put a hand on the retching man’s shoulder. Bilbo dry heaved before he groaned and curled into the seat. The man opened the back door to the vehicle and pulled a blanket out to place onto Bilbo. Bilbo continued to shiver and he closed his eyes before he realized he was sleeping.

Thorin

The rain beat down on the front windshield. Dis was late from work, so he offered to stay later to take care of the boys. As the thunder began, Dis pulled in and thanked Thorin, rushing in to push him out of the door. If it continued like this he may never get home. Thorin kissed the boys’ forehead and headed out. He was currently taking a country road that wouldn’t be packed with traffic as the lightening illuminated the night sky. Thorin came around a bend and saw a small man walking. He slowed down and as he did the man tumbled down the ravine. Thorin hit his breaks and bailed out of the car.

He ran feet first down the gulley and felt his feet get sucked into the mud. He didn’t care as he called after the man who was still tumbling down the ditch. He watched him vomit as he nearly fell himself. He reached for the man, who was slowly sinking into the ditch, and was shocked to find him so resistant. Fright would do that though if Dwalin’s cop stories were anything to go by. Thorin’s hair whipped in his face as the smaller man continued to flail blindly.

“It’s alright. I’m trying to help.” Thorin doubt he heard him over the storm, he had a hard time hearing himself, but the small man stopped and let Thorin lift him, shoulder to shoulder, out of the ditch. The mud and rain made it hell, but eventually they both poked above the road. The man felt like dead weight and he was worried he’d passed out, but from his resistance to get in Thorin’s beamer he was proven wrong. After the small man finished puking he covered him in a blanket, shut the door, and walked around to the driver’s seat. He was drenched, but he didn’t care. He looked over to ask the man where to take him when he saw that he was asleep or worse unconscious. Thorin contemplated what to do before he put the car into drive and carefully drove home. He kept an eye on the man the whole time.

He was filthy. Mud, rocks, twigs, and debris covered his body from the fall.  He would apologize to the car wash personally. There was blood, but he wasn’t sure from where. He might have been blonde, but with the mud it was hard to tell. His head rested against the window and he didn’t wake up once. He was thin, so thin Thorin was surprised the wind didn’t pick him off the road before. He wondered where the man came from. What was he doing on the road this late at night? Why was he walking? He looked to be older, maybe late twenties, but from his thinness and filth he wasn’t sure. He hoped it wasn’t a runaway. He looked absolutely frightened when Thorin tried to help him into his car. The rain was letting up by the time he made it home and he hurried to get out and carry the man inside. He was barely took any space in Thorin’s arms as he brought him inside.

Thorin’s possessions had suffered enough damage, so he took the man into the  bathroom and set him in the bathtub. He was still asleep, or unconscious. Thorin took the blanket off and stared at the man for a second. There was a gash on his knee and along his forearm, from what he could see. He set the blanket down and grabbed the first aid kit. He knelt by the tub and began to undress the man. The shirt was huge on him and torn from the fall. He barely even had to pull the pants off they were so baggy. Who was this man? Thorin began to carefully clean him off with a wash cloth, the man still not responding. He was done washing him when he noticed bruises and marks all over the man’s body. Intricate, dark bruises on the man’s back. What looked like nail divots in the man’s ribs. His wrist was swollen and there was a small dot of blood coming from the back of the man’s head. He began on the fresh wounds and decided to put off the bruises until later.

One Thorin was done bandaging up the man he went in search of some clothes for him. Anything of Thorin’s would be too big, but it looked like the man was used to it. He carefully dressed him in some sweats and a t-shirt. Once clothed and bandaged he picked him up and put him in his own bed. He probably wouldn’t be using it anyways. He had questions that would leave him up all night. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Dwalin.

“You know what time it is?” Dwalin grumbled through a yawn.

“I found someone on the side of the road.”

“Alive?” Dwalin was suddenly alert. He knew the importance if Thorin called at this hour.

“Yes, he fell down the ravine.” Dwalin was silent and Thorin pressed on. “He was just walking out there. No jacket, in the bitter rain.” Thorin looked up the stairs and paced in front of his door. “He was so afraid. He didn’t want a ride and kept fighting me.” Thorin ran a hand through his hair.

“Where is he now?” Thorin stopped at the base of the stairs.

“In my bed. He fell unconscious when he got into my car. I cleaned him up and he was really beat  up. But not from the fall.” Thorin’s voice got quiet. He didn’t like what he’d seen and he worried what it meant.

“Abuse?” Thorin was silent except for a low hum.

“He’s so thin. I’d say anorexic even.” Thorin went back to pacing. He took a deep breath when he heard a bang from upstairs. “Dwalin, hang on.” He threw his phone on the table, darting up the stairs as the banging got louder and there was a voice yelling in terror.

Thorin ran to his room and threw open the door to the man bum rushing him at the door. Thorin grabbed him and it seemed only to make the man fight more. Thorin made quiet shushing noises and tried to get the man to calm down.

“Let me go! Let me go!” He was exceptionally loud.

“Will you calm down if I let you go?” Thorin managed between his screams. The man seemed to hesitate before stopping completely, almost turning into a rag doll. Thorin sat him on the bed, but that sent him into a panic again and he lunged. Thorin was bowled over and before he could realize what had happened the man was out the door and running down the steps. Thorin barely managed to keep chase as he was already outside, but in his frail state he didn’t make it far before Thorin grabbed him in a bridal carrier and carried him back inside. He was glad he lived where his closest neighbors were a mile away. In either direction.  The man screamed as though Thorin was hurting him. Thorin put him down on the couch and that silenced him.

The man still shook, but he didn’t yell or lash out. Which Thorin thought was improvement. They sat staring at each other for a long while. The man was pale, blonde, and brown eyes that sparkled despite his fight, like there was a fire that was burnt out long ago and only left embers smoldering in the man’s distrusting gaze. In the silence, Thorin could hear the dial tone of his phone. He was worried if he left then the man would run off. He was in no condition to go outside and it was still much too unbearable outside. Thorin knelt in front of the man. He had his hands on his knees and attempted to get something out of him.

“Are you hungry?” The man stared at him blankly. He shifted on the couch, the wince evident on his face. “Will you stay if I go to make you food?” The man didn’t answer, but he looked exhausted and pained. In Thorin’s short sleeves he could see hand prints on the man’s upper arms. He didn’t linger, afraid it would drive him off. Thorin dared to stand up and go to the kitchen. The man didn’t move, but watched as he walked away. Thorin made a few ham sandwiches and hurried to the couch. The man was still sitting where he left him, but didn’t look any less tense. Thorin sat on the coffee table across from the man and offered him the plate. The man took one look, his stomach grumbling, but didn't eat. He simply stared directly at Thorin, not once glancing again at the food. Thorin reached forward and took a piece off of one of the sandwiches and ate it. "It's safe, I swear." Something in the man changed and began to inhale the sandwiches. Thorin watched with detached amusement. Now was not the time.

Now that the man was clean he would see he was actually much closer to Thorin’s age then he had originally thought.  After a moment of watching the man eat, the doorbell rang. The man jumped and hid in the couch. Thorin held up his hands in a placating motion before walking to the door.

Dwalin nearly kicked the door down with his hand on his hip and a fierce look in his eye. Thorin held him firm. He quickly grabbed his phone and shut it off before pocketing it.

“You can’t just do that to me, you dolt.” Dwalin started, but Thorin shushed him.

“He’s spooked, please keep your voice down.” Thorin held out a hand and walked into the living room. The man was curled up on himself and looking at Thorin like a wild animal in a cage. “He’s not going to hurt you. He’s here to help.” Thorin held out his hands. Dwalin was in uniform which seemed to put the man at some ease. He didn’t uncurl, but he didn’t look so wild. Thorin looked back at Dwalin, who looked at Thorin like he was the biggest idiot in the world.


	2. 2 AM Dinner for 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of forced starvation

Bilbo watched from his seat on the couch as the man who picked him up from the side of the road conversed quietly with the officer. Bilbo wondered when he had called the officer. They both went quiet and the officer walked over to Bilbo. Bilbo sat all the way back into the couch. He resisted the urge to wince at the motion. The man lent on one knee in front of Bilbo, but didn’t make any move to get closer.

“I’m officer Fundinson, please call me Dwalin.” Bilbo watched as the man loosened his broad shoulders and tried to seem less threatening. “Can I ask your name?” Bilbo stayed silent and kept his eyes somewhere on the officer’s chest. He noticed the badge and the pristine look of his uniform. “Thorin tells me that while he was bandaging you he found some marks, did someone hurt you?” Bilbo’s heart raced as he was thrown back on his knees with Smaug wrapped around him and he tried to ignore the way the carpet burned his cheek. He began to shake a little.

The man, Thorin as officer Dwalin called him, moved from the entry way to the fireplace. He leaned on the mantel with his hands in his pockets and mud still on his face.

“Sir, I can only take you to the station if you wish to file a statement, if not you may stay here with Thorin or if there is anywhere safe you can stay.” Bilbo didn’t have any family in the city. When he and Smaug first started seeing each other he had convinced Bilbo to move in with him to the city. He had said that there were better opportunities here for Bilbo, though he never used any of those opportunities to his own satisfaction. He had gone through a few jobs all close to his house and each time Smaug had found fault in them and demanded he quit or he would make the owner let him go. He didn’t want to go back to Smaug. He knew that. The bruises on his back were aggravated by sitting so rigidly.

Bilbo was still silent although Dwalin seemed kind enough. He seemed like he would help, but he’d gone to the police before. He trusted Thorin more then he trusted the uniformed man in front of him. Dwalin sighed. “Thorin knows how to get a hold of me if you decide to change your mind about anything.” Dwalin stood up slowly and nodded to Bilbo. Bilbo watched him leave. Dwalin gave Thorin a look that Bilbo couldn’t distinguish before he left the house, he could only assume from the uniform that he left in his cruiser. Thorin stayed firmly planted on the fire mantel as if it would topple were he to remove himself. He looked at Bilbo with curiosity in his bright blue eyes. Bilbo’s ass was really beginning to hurt from sitting on it for so long. He began to shift uncomfortably and Thorin seemed to come back to himself.

“Do you need anything?” Bilbo shook his head. He was silent for a moment. “If I leave the room will you stay?” Bilbo didn’t confirm nor deny his question. He merely shifted again to alleviate some of the pain. “I’m going to get your room ready and take a shower. I’ll be down in a little over a half an hour.” Thorin stayed put until he deemed it an acceptable amount of time. He left and Bilbo was left with himself. He worried about walking around the house. From what he’d seen of it in his brief seconds of running down the stairs and out the door he knew it was grand. It was a little dark although the moon was supposed to be close to full. He figured the storm obscured any light from reaching the ground. Just as Bilbo was going to get up and explore the house, Thorin returned with a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. Bilbo was so shocked by his return that he sat down abruptly, his calves banging against the couch and sat down stiffly.

“You are free to make yourself at home.” Thorin sounded sincere. Bilbo didn’t react. “Is there anything I can call you? Since you won’t give me your name.” Thorin spoke softly as if he would spook the man sitting too straightly on the couch. Bilbo hesitated before he racked his brain for a name.

“Finch.” Bilbo gave a curt response and Thorin seemed to know it wasn’t his name. He didn’t press for more details though. He simply nodded and walked out of the living room, presumably to go shower given that his hair had twigs sticking every which way out of it. Bilbo waited until he couldn’t hear him before he reached for the bottle and the water. He downed three pills and the whole glass of water. He waited a second before he stood up and began to wander the house. He was automatically drawn to where he had seen Thorin appear with food. He’d hoped he had guessed correctly in reaching the kitchen. He was still starving. His stomach rumbled and he groaned. He was excited to realize that the kitchen had been a short distance from the living room and was impressive as with the rest of the house. The counter was shaped in an L that ran along the wall with a pantry directly across from it in a little corner of the room. Thorin had an expansive fridge and Bilbo dared to open it.

Smaug had kept the house well stocked, but was only allowed to eat when Smaug ate. Sometimes it would be a few meals before Bilbo got to eat. He shut the door with a shudder and moved his shaking body to the kitchen table where there were little intricate drawings here and there. They looked like they were blueprints for something, but he wasn’t exactly sure what. He moved to the next room which seemed to be another sitting room of sorts, but it was filled with canvases. Some blank, some half finished. They varied from landscapes to animals or even a few partially finished faces. The faces were usually done on a black canvas and the dramatic effect was halting. Bilbo looked around in awe as he looked at a particular landscape of a forest.

He heard the floors creak behind him and he saw Thorin standing there in fresh clothes and his hair still damp from the shower. Bilbo stepped away from the painting, but avoided getting closer to Thorin. He may have trusted him more than the police, but he seemed like a lesser of two evils. “I do profile sketches for the police, but my passion was for art.” Thorin made a wide arc to avoid intruding in Bilbo’s space. Bilbo still took a step back. Thorin looked at the painting that Bilbo seemed so interested in. “I went on a vacation once with my sister and her sons and this was my view from the tent. We stayed for many days, so I got very acquainted with the scene.” Thorin stepped back from the painting and walked past Bilbo, again giving a wide route.

“If you’re still hungry I could cook something for you, something more substantial than a few ham sandwiches.” Bilbo never let his back be to Thorin. He had his hands close to his body and nodded stiffly. Thorin turned and showed him back to the kitchen. After a minute of hesitation, Bilbo followed.

Thorin

Thorin stepped out of the shower and hurried to comb his hair and get into clothes. He didn’t want to leave Finch unattended for very long. It hadn’t taken very long to set up the guest bedroom which consisted of a hide-a-bed and an end table. The bathroom was across the hall. Thorin didn’t use that bathroom all that often, so it would provide Finch with privacy, may he need it. He came down the stairs to see the empty couch and he panicked for a split second before he heard the floor boards groan down the hall. Finch had wandered into his studio and Thorin took a deep breath. He didn’t mean to spy on the man, but he was admiring his paintings with such a scholarly countenance that it made Thorin wonder what his interests were. He also took a moment to take into account _just_ how small the man was. Thorin’s clothes would have fit big if Finch had been of standard weight, but being at least fifty to sixty pounds under weight he looked like he was drowning in fabric.

Thorin wished he had smaller clothes to at least accommodate the small man. He had so many questions that he didn’t know where to start. He knew that Finch probably wouldn’t answer anything, but Thorin was a patient man. He had to be if he worked with the police even if he was just a profiler. He figured he had stared at the man long enough. He took one step forward where he knew was a weak board and Finch whipped around, as if he was caught stealing. Thorin didn’t want to assume anything, but he had seen many victims of all sorts of crime in his time as a profiler. He’d seen abuse victims of nearly every kind and he couldn’t begin to wrap his head around why someone would harm a man like this. One that held a fire in his eyes that sparked as if it was in a cold hearth and was waiting for fuel to be added so it can blaze with life and vivacity. Thorin spoke of his work and his family in hopes it might coax something out of the man. He got nothing besides a wary stare, but at least he wasn’t yelling or trying to run away.

He led the man into the kitchen to get him some sustainable food. He wasn’t a fantastic chef, but he did know how to make basic meals. It was nearly two thirty in the morning, but exhaustion had ceased to crawl into his veins as if he was fueled by his desire to protect and discover this man’s secrets. “Are you allergic to anything?” Finch didn’t say yes or nod for that matter, so he took it as a no. Thorin began pulling out ingredients for his homemade Mac and cheese. Since he had two small nephews he had soon discovered the grotesque nature of boxed Mac and cheese. He had put an end to that right away, at least in his house. It became their favorite meal and one Thorin wasn’t opposed to.

Thorin got a pot of water ready on the stove while he dug around in the fridge for assorted cheeses. Finch watched with a careful eye. Thorin began to shred the cheddar and the gouda. After he got a nice little pile he put them into a bowl and busied himself with checking his ingredients while he waited for the water to boil.

“My nephews love this recipe.” Thorin began. As usual, Finch was quiet. “It’s all they ask for when they come over. I’ve worked over the past few years to perfect it.” He went to the sink to wash his hands. As he did so the water began to hiss as it bubbled over a little and hit the flames of the burner. Thorin took off the lid and threw in the shell pasta. Thorin prepped a pan and set it on the counter next to the shredded cheeses. Finch stood at the counter with an unreadable expression. He would have to remind himself tomorrow to go out and get some clothes for the man. Seeing him in Thorin’s overly large clothes was a little pathetic and the man deserved more than that.  He busied himself with little things that he neglected to do during the day. After about fifteen minutes he checked the pasta and found it to be good enough to continue. He drained the water and replaced it with milk and the cheddar, gouda, and cream cheese. He put a few spices in it and began to stir it. He hummed to himself as he mixed. After a second he left the pot and went to the pantry in search of bread crumbs.

He grew aggravated at not being able to find them and forfeited his search. He exited the pantry and saw Finch at the stove, stirring the mixture. Maybe he was a cook. Thorin began to feel like a voyeur for spending so much time staring at this man he didn’t know. He didn’t want to frighten the man with speaking though, so he moved to the fridge, and looked in there for some beverages. He heard Finch walk past him and back to his spot behind the counter. Thorin exited the fridge and set a bottle of water on the counter.

“Do you like to cook?” Thorin asked. He didn’t expect a response, nor did he get one. “I’m not very good, but I know enough to get myself by.” He went back to the stove and finished up, noticing Finch turned the fire down to keep the cheese from burning. He finished up the dish and put a nice helping into a bowl. He gave it to Finch and gave himself some as well. He figured if he was going to cook he might as well eat. Finch sat watching Thorin while he let his dinner cool. He started to put the dirty dishes in the washer when he noticed Finch hadn’t even touched the food.

“It shouldn’t be hot now.” Thorin supplied, still the man didn’t move. He started to feel a little affronted that the man didn’t begin to eat. Thorin dried off his hands and walked over to Finch. “You may eat, I made it for you.” Thorin kept his voice low despite his growing vexation. Finch looked between Thorin and his own bowl. Thorin tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. He tried to understand what the man was implying. Once again Finch’s eyes darted to Thorin and his bowl. Thorin tentatively took a bite. Once he did Finch began to eat with fervor, but less so when he was first given the sandwiches. This time with much more manners and less like well a starving man. Thorin stared for a second before the realization dawned on him. He felt rage spike in his blood and he hid it from his face. Whoever did this to Finch had even neglected him from eating. It explained his small bearing. In that instance Thorin absolutely loathed whomever was responsible for this man’s abuse and swore to do justice to the man that pushed his bowl forward and took a step back to yawn. Thorin put his fork down and pushed his food aside.

“I’ll show you to your room.” Thorin led him through the house, back up the stairs and opposite in the direction to his room. He pointed to the door that was Finch’s room and his bathroom. “I put a tooth brush in there and the sheets are clean. If you need anything I’ll be down the hall. Good night, Finch.” Thorin backed away and back down the stairs to the kitchen. He decided he had some dishes that required some extensive scrubbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos. I am alright, it rained all day yesterday and is now snowing. Tahoe has over five feet of snow and it's not gonna stop any time soon. I know I use the metaphor for the fire in Bilbo a lot but don't think that he's broken by this. Our little Hobbit is strong and there's fight in him still. Thank you for reading and I'm actually glad this is actually doing well. I was worried about the content actually.


	3. Who Is This Lonely Man in the Middle of the Forest?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to give you guys an extra long one, but my sister keeps playing video games next to me and it's distracting to say the least. So please enjoy  
> *Warnings*  
> Slight mention of self harm

Thorin didn’t feel any desire to go to bed. He decided to put his insomnia to some good use. He picked up a dry paintbrush and looked around for his pallet. He pulled out one of his older a paintings and dolloped out the paint pallet for it. His mind whirring with activity and emotions. Who was the man in his guest room? Who hurt him? How long has he lived like this?

His brush strokes became less controlled as he delved deeper in trying to understand the goings on of the small man in his spare bed. He put his pallet and brush down and stormed to the kitchen where his keys were. The clock read 3:45. He grabbed a coat and headed out into the dark. He drove into town, navigating his way to the nearest Wal-Mart. As a profiler he had a pretty steady income, a somewhat large one at that which he could afford the privacy that his location on the outskirts of town provided. He pulled into the 24-hour super market and headed straight to the men’s clothing section.

The greeter gave him a curious glance, but didn’t say anything as he managed his way to the section he was looking for. Thorin thought for a second on going to the children’s section, but didn’t want to offend the wayward soul he had left at home. He began to load the cart with anything the man might need. Socks, underwear, shirts, a few jackets, and pants. Thorin used what he had seen of the small man while he was bandaging him up as a reference for the sizes on everything. By the time he was done the cart had at least seven new outfits with a large collection of other items. He got nearly every style offered at the store.

He pulled into the check out and the clerk’s eyes widened, but there must have been something in Thorin’s face that made him not comment. Once he was done there he piled all the clothes into his car and hurried home. The sun was barely cresting the mountains and the first dewy dawn rays were peeking through the darkness of the night. The stars began to dim and the inky darkness was barely a glimpse by the time he got home. He didn’t want to leave Finch alone for a long time. He walked in and from what he could tell the man was still asleep, so he got to taking the tags off of all the clothes and neatly folding them. It was 5:30 by the time he got all the clothes done and folded. He placed them in a basket with a  note. He set the basket in front of Finch’s door and walked down stairs to clean up. As he was looking around in the kitchen for breakfast his  phone began to ring.

“Thorin.” He answered. He mumbled under his breath about shopping for groceries before the voice on the other side responded.

“How is the little guy?” Dwalin started.

“’Hello, how did you sleep?’ I didn’t, but thanks for asking.” Thorin mocked.

“Well sleeping beauty, maybe you shouldn’t be out all night picking up random fucking men.” Dwalin snapped back. If any offense was take he didn’t show it.

“He’s asleep.” Thorin pulled out a granola bar and began to munch on it idly. The need to eat overpowering the want to eat.

“Did you get anything out of him?” Dwalin’s tone changing to concern. Thorin leaned on the counter, pausing to take a bite of his breakfast bar.

“A fake name, but that’s about all.” He listened for a second for the sound of movement but heard none. Dwalin grumbled something he didn’t catch.

“I hate abuse cases.” They both had a moment of silence. Dwalin wasn’t proud to state that he had encountered enough abuse cases to last him a life time. The worst was that no matter how many he encountered they were each worse than the last. Dwalin had been in the force for over thirty years. There was noise in the back ground and a soft voice. “Ori, go back to bed I don’t have breakfast ready yet.” Dwalin said, although it sounded like he was holding the phone from his face. His tone was soft, as if he could erase the abuse other people faced if he loved his boyfriend immensely. There were more soft words before Dwalin responded, “Thorin.” Ori seemed satisfied and the phone made some sort of static noise before Dwalin got back on the line.

“What are you doing up?” Thorin started.

“For the same reason you never went to sleep.” Dwalin dodged. Thorin let it drop. “You should sleep. There’s nothing more you can do for him at this point.” There was the sound of plates in the back ground. Thorin nodded. He knew Dwalin was right, as he looked up through the ceiling in the direction of the guest room.

“Bye, Dwalin.” The other man grunted out a response before Thorin hung up. He rubbed his face with his hands. He threw away his trash and stuffed his phone in his pocket. He sat down on the couch and grabbed the book on the side table.

Bilbo

Bilbo had spent a long time in the early morning just pacing around the room. He had no desire to sleep and didn’t even think he would given the opportunity. He looked around the room, taking in the small items that were strewn everywhere. Once he’d observed everything he sat down on the hide-a-bed. He ran his hand over the fabric and lay down. His eyes drooped betrayingly and he curled up under the blankets.

xXx

He woke up leisurely. Sun barely streaming through the shade that was cracked slightly. He lay in bed for a second until he felt the panic set in from the days previous events. It took him a few moments before he remembered where he was and what had occurred. He rolled on the hide-a-bed and took a deep breath of the stale air. The room didn’t feel lived in and he wondered who this man was to have a large house and never have anyone in it. He thought he remembered hearing him say something about nephews. He wondered how old they were. And if they visited often. Bilbo wasn’t opposed to kids, but he had never found the desire to have any. He was getting worked up over nothing, they could be completely grown adults and not even worth worrying over. Bilbo chastised himself for being irrational.

He got out of the bed and walked to the door to use the restroom, but as soon as he opened the door he tripped over a basket. He caught himself on the door jamb before he could actually fall. He saw a basket full of clothes and a note attached to the clothes.

_Yours_

Bilbo looked on the front and back for anything else, but he saw nothing. He grabbed the basket and brought it into the room. He searched through the clothes before he pulled out a gray t shirt, a beige cardigan, and pair of gray slacks. He set the rest of the clothes by the bed and walked into the bathroom across the hall to take a shower. He stripped down and stared at himself in the mirror. His arms were bruised into an ugly purple-brown and he could barely see the marks from the door. He didn’t dare look at his ass because he knew the damage would be enough to turn his stomach. His skin began to gain more color though and his hair didn’t look as though it were ready to fall out at any second. He got the shower going and ignored the way his bruises ached. He stepped in and relished in the way it felt on his sore muscles. He hadn’t realized how far he’d walked that night. He just knew that he had to get away from Smaug.

Bilbo took leisure in showering. He massaged his scalp and gave tedious attentions to his sore body. He used the tooth brush that Thorin had provided him. He let the hot water run down his body and soothe his aching body. The steam cleared his sinuses from being out in the rain all night and he scrubbed whatever Thorin didn’t clean. His knee had a nice gouge that hadn’t scabbed over yet and he was careful with that while his wrist throbbed at such attentions. He felt the water begin to grow cold and he turned it off as he stepped out. He wrapped the towel around himself and dried off before putting on the new clothes. He stepped into the hallway and put the old clothes on his bed before padding down the stairs. He was careful to remain absolutely quiet.

He wasn’t sure where Thorin was, or what time it was at that, but he didn’t want to cause a disturbance. He came down the stairs and saw Thorin on the couch. He walked around the couch, quiet as a mouse. He noticed the man was asleep on the couch with a book on his lap. Bilbo took a moment to take in the man that picked him up from the side of the road. His long dark hair obscuring some of his face and his breath coming out slowly through his nose. He had long lashes that made him look like you could tell him anything. Bilbo carefully walked forward and a rush of bravery came over him. He moved the hair hiding Thorin’s face and looked at his face completely now. Bilbo let the hair fall back down and as he was about to back up Thorin startled awake and looked around in confusion. Bilbo jumped and backed off.

“Finch?” Thorin sounded husky with sleep. His eyes darting around, looking for trouble. Bilbo stared at him for a long moment, his eyes wide, but his body still. Thorin must have decided that there was no immediate threat and calmed down. He stretched on the couch and stood up after a moment. He checked his phone and he made a noncommittal noise. He put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Bilbo.

“Well I would offer you breakfast, but it would seem that it is nearly three in the afternoon.” Thorin gave a small smile, but Bilbo felt his heart drop. He began to panic and looked around for a clock to confirm his fear. He ran to the kitchen without hearing what Thorin had to say as he saw that the time did read 3:23. Thorin followed him into the kitchen. Bilbo was shaking and he had his hands in his hair. Thorin stood in question.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. His tone sincere. Bilbo thought for a second on whether he should speak, but he just paced for a long while. His anxiety nearly peaking as he thought about work. He hadn’t realized Thorin got up until he had one hand on Bilbo’s forearm, preventing him from pacing any longer.  “What’s wrong?” Thorin repeated.

“Work.” Bilbo finally spoke. His voice faint and shaky.

“Where do you work?” Thorin tried to get out of him, but Bilbo wouldn’t have any of it.

“Late, I’m going to be late.” His voice sounded hoarse from disuse. Thorin stared at him in confusion.

“Where do you work?” Thorin’s voice was soft. It barely managed to mollify his rising anxiety. His bruises began to ache at even the thought of being late to work and how Smaug would react.

“Bofur’s shop. On fifth avenue.” Thorin nodded, grabbing his keys from the key hanger on the wall.

“Do you need anything?” Bilbo shook his head. He usually went to work in whatever he was wearing. Bofur had a very lenient dress code. Thorin led the way to his car. He opened the door for Bilbo before sliding into the driver’s seat and sped out of the driveway. The drive was silent as Bilbo watched out the window at the forest passing by. He wondered why the man lived so far from town. Who was this lonely man? Why did he take such care with Bilbo? Bilbo pulled tighter on his cardigan and pulled his knees to his chest. He kept his eyes firmly on the disappearing forests as his eyes swelled with tears, but he bit them back. He pressed his wrist and felt the jolt of pain. He stifled a whimper. Thorin quietly pulled into the coffee shop and Bilbo rushed out without much as a goodbye. The minute he set foot in the door his heart calmed and his hands slowed their shaking. Bofur waved him in and Bilbo gave a fake smile.

He walked into the back to put on his apron, giving Bofur an excuse for his tardiness.

Thorin

Thorin sat in the car for a moment. He called Dwalin. He answered on the third ring.

“You know just because it’s my day off doesn’t mean you can call me whenever you damn well want.” Thorin could tell his answer had no actual vindication in it.

“I took him to work. He was starting to have a panic attack, so I brought him to work.” Thorin watched as the man inside walked through the coffee shop into the back before reappearing with an apron. He should have felt some sort of shame for watching the man, but he coined it as protection rather than fascination.

“Did you leave him there?” Dwalin sounded incredulous. Thorin scoffed.

“As if.” There was silence. “I’m sitting outside the shop.” Thorin finished.

“Where does he work?” Thorin craned his head to look at the sign in front of the building.

“The Green Mountains.” He leaned back in his seat and rolled his shoulders. “It’s a small coffee shop from what I can tell.” Thorin saw a few small tables and what he thought were espresso machines. The phone cut out for a second before Dwalin came back on the line.

“Maybe the boss might be willing to give you some information on him. If not, I can do a little scoping out for you.” Thorin hummed at the idea.

“If he was so panicked to miss work then there’s a good reason why.” Dwalin was silent on the other line. He didn’t need to finish the sentence for the cop to understand the insinuation. “I don’t think it’s the shop keeper, but I’ll do some interrogating for myself.” Dwalin grunted and wished him luck before hanging up. Thorin grabbed his charger and wallet. He walked into the coffee shop and chose a seat by the wall. He had his back against the wall and he plugged his phone in. He walked up to the front where there was a jovial, bearded man who asked him for anything. Thorin grabbed a paper and asked for a black coffee. The man smiled, giving him a fresh cup, ceramic not the paper kind that made Thorin despise the ‘hipster’ coffee shops.

“Do you mind opening up a tab for me?” The man on the other side of the counter gladly agreed. Thorin thanked him before taking his coffee and turning around. There was faint classical music playing as Thorin walked to his seat. He took a sip of his coffee and opened up his paper. If the sign on the door was right, he had until 8. He began to read an article about the growing population of field mice in the area.


	4. The Visitor and the Uninvited Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings*  
> Stalking

Bilbo had known the minute Thorin walked in the door. He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to avoid him without Bofur asking questions. What Bilbo didn’t know was that the lonely man in the forest would stay for the entirety of his shift. He stayed in his little corner, reading the paper, and Bofur would occasionally go over to chat or pour him some more coffee. Bilbo had found any reason to stay in the back. He wasn’t sure why Thorin insisted on staying at the shop. He didn’t speak with Bilbo and didn’t attempt to distract him from work. He simply sat at the far table by the wall and would occasionally look up when the door opened. When he wasn’t needed he was in the back working on some tedious and menial task.

He had worked at Bofur’s shop for six months and despite Bofur’s best efforts, Bilbo wasn’t one for talking. He usually gave clipped answers or didn’t answer at all, but that didn’t stop the man’s attitude from being jovial with him. This time was no exception.

“Do you know who that man is?” Bofur spoke as if he knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from Bilbo himself. Bilbo set the pumpkin pie spice down for a moment before he continued wiping it off and placing it on the shelf. “Something tells me you do.” They were in the back of the shop, but Bilbo still flicked his eyes to the door as if Thorin might have been there listening to them. Bilbo hoped Bofur didn’t see the motion.

“He’s an old friend.” Bofur moved to stand in the doorway and look out into the lobby. He took a deep breath.

“I wouldn’t call him old.” There was something playful in Bofur’s tone as he gave a quick glance back at Bilbo. “In fact, I’d call him rather….” He turned back to Bilbo. “Pretty.” Bilbo pretended that he hadn’t heard and continued, but his body turned rigged. He continued to dust the shelf with a damp rag. He heard Bofur stroll back into the room.

“That’s not what I meant.” Bilbo stilted on his words as if the all of the dust from the shelf had appeared in his throat to clog his words.

“The old part, or the friend part?” Bilbo could hear Bofur’s smirk in his voice. He didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around to glare at him. He knew it would only entice his boss to tease him some more. Bilbo pulled down a few more containers, taking extra care to clean the dust off of the entirety of the containers. His ministrations overly calculated in his attempt to hide his aversion to the conversation. “Maybe I should go out and speak with this mystery man myself. With those bright blue eyes and hair that looks fit to be tousled.” Bofur turned on his heel. Bilbo dropped the container of cinnamon and called after him.

“No!” Bofur stopped in the doorway at seeing his employee so riled up. Bofur stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned on the door jamb. He must have noticed the cinnamon spill everywhere, but didn’t say anything. He had never see Bilbo so moved.

“I was just jesting.” He held his hands up in a placating manner. “There’s customers at the counter.” He let Bilbo be to himself. Bilbo was gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before brushing the spilt cinnamon into the trash and to put the container back on the shelf, what little there was to keep. Bilbo could faintly hear Bofur speaking to the customers just out the door. His blood was rushing in his ears and he used his shaking hands to continue cleaning the shelf. When he couldn’t reach the items on the back of it, he pulled out the small stool they had and cleaned while he stood on the small stool.

Bofur

He was not fond of Bilbo’s boyfriend if he were to dare call it that. He didn’t have enough evidence for anything, the poor man barely spoke, and when he did it was hardly considered a conversation. For the first few months he had chalked it up to shyness at a new job, but after six months he was positive it wasn’t the job which was cause of the man’s introversion. Bofur had only met Bilbo’s boyfriend twice. Once when they applied for the job, then one other time with the police in tow. Each time Bofur was unsettled by the man. He had an air about him that made him trust him just about as much as his brother was good at speaking, which after an accident while on a camping trip was close to minimal.

So now, as the man stood at his counter demanding to see Bilbo, Bofur could just about trust that his gut feeling was right.

“I’ve been worried sick about him.” Smaug’s voice nearly purred with fake concern. Bofur crossed his arms and shook his head.

“He didn’t come in today, can’t help you.” Something flashed across Smaug’s face, but it was gone in an instant. His overly vibrant gray eyes hiding the secrets to the small man behind Bofur.

“If he does come in, will you please have him call me. I can’t fathom where he could have ended up and my worst fears plague me.” His face read sincerity, but is eyes held a more sinister intent. One that rubbed Bofur the wrong way and demanded that he do something. For now Bofur kept his arms firmly squared on his chest as Smaug held out his hand. After a moment he dropped it to his side and walked out. Bofur waited until the door was closed before he spoke,

“No one even talks like that.” Bofur grumbled before eyeing the man in the far corner. He didn’t seem to be paying attention, or if he was he was damn good at hiding it. Bofur grabbed a pen and one of his business cards. He wrote on the back of it. He carefully looked into the back room and saw Bilbo still cleaning, he hurried around the counter and walked over to the man. He slapped the card face up on the table. The man looked at him over his cup of coffee. Bofur lifted his hand off the card.

“His name is Bilbo Baggins.” Bofur said in a hushed voice. “Get him away from Smaug.” Before the man had any time to respond, although he didn’t look like he did, Bofur turned around and went back to behind the counter. He pocketed the pen and went back to working. He reminded himself to comp the man’s drinks.

Thorin

His clock read 8:05 when Bilbo walked out of the shop. Thorin sat in the car as they began to close and got the car running to keep it warm. Bilbo got into his car. It seemed like a positive sign given that he hadn’t specified that he would return with Thorin, nor had he been forced to. With no conversation to indicate that they were to go anywhere else, Thorin began to take his route home. As usual, Bilbo was silent the entire time. Thorin was glad to have a name, but he wouldn’t use it until Bilbo had given it to him himself. He felt wrong in doing so without Bilbo’s permission.

Thorin watched the man out of the corner of his eye. He favored his left side and Thorin wondered if that’s where he’d taken the most damage in his fall or if it was from this man called Smaug. Thorin had seen him come in and the way Bofur’s cheery demeanor dissipated as the man walked closer. He could barely hear the conversation, but whatever it was about upset the shop owner greatly. Thorin felt the weight of the card in his jacket pocket.

Thorin noticed some headlights in his rearview mirror. He catalogued them in his mind as he began the more desolate half of the drive. It’s not that no one lived down his street, just it wasn’t a main thorough fare and on the other end was the more time consuming route to the highway. He wasn’t sure if his paranoia was born from working with the police or if it was from having this strange man with a violent although mysterious history. He chose not to dwell on it for the time being and focused on the car behind him and the road in front of him. As he began to get closer and closer to his house he felt the unease rise in his chest.

He passed his house. Bilbo, who he had thought was asleep until now, jolted at the realization and turned to him in shock. His eyes wide and the beginnings of an attack just on the edge of his skin.

“I’m not bringing a follower to my house, not when they might harm you.” Thorin continued down the road. Bilbo looked in the side mirror and pressed himself into the seat, as if to hide. Thorin didn’t make any indication that he was alarmed at the car behind him. He arrived at the old entrance to the freeway and merged with traffic. Bilbo was still slouching in his seat and his skin pale under the street lamps of the freeway. Thorin followed the flow of traffic and eventually ended up maneuvering through many lanes of traffic before getting off and working his way through the city.

Bilbo didn’t relax until Thorin stopped at a red light and gave him a soft smile. Bilbo hesitantly let go of his white knuckled hold on the door. He briefly looked at Thorin before hiding his face as the light turned green. Thorin kept one eye on the rearview mirror for any suspicious cars. He pulled into Dwalin’s driveway and hurried to Bilbo’s side of the car. Bilbo looked around, the adrenaline from his fright slowly exiting his system. Thorin held the door for him as he got out. He led the smaller man to the front door and knocked. Dwalin answered, looking gruff as usual, but in sweat pants and a ratty t-shirt that might have at one time said ‘Beef Magnet’ with a picture of a hamburger patty shaped like a magnet. There was a hole on the side that showed the beginning of one of his tattoos.

He looked between the two of them, Thorin giving him a look that he would explain later, before grunting and moving out of the way. There was a light on in the kitchen and dining room and Ori poked his head out into the hallway. Thorin shut the door behind him as Bilbo continued to walk in and sit himself down at the breakfast bar.

“You’re lucky I make enough for an army, knowing Dwalin’s appetite alone.” Ori chuckled and Dwalin gave his boyfriend a kiss on top of his head.

“It smells wonderful, Ori. Sorry for the unexpected arrival.” But Thorin didn’t provide any further explanation. He moved to wash his hands. Dwalin already back to cutting potatoes.

“No bother.” Ori looked at Bilbo. Thorin dried his hands and introduced them.

“This is Finch.” Thorin made a motion to Bilbo and as wrong as it felt to call Bilbo by his name without his permission it felt even worse to call him Finch, but he wasn’t going to make that knowledge known after the night they had had.

“Well, Finch, do you know how to cook?” Bilbo nodded. His eyes gleaming at the prospect. “Well, in my house if you want food then you’ve got to help.” Ori held out a wooden spoon to Bilbo. Bilbo grabbed it and after a second of hesitation at the threshold of the kitchen he joined and began to stir the sauce. Ori, Dwalin, and Thorin looked at each other before their eyes set on Bilbo. They didn’t linger for long as the smell of food cajoled them to continue working.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you I hope you enjoyed, also I literally can't believe how much love this story is getting, I thought for sure the content would scare a lot of people away, but I'm glad you're enjoying it.


	5. Rain Drops on a Tin Roof

Thorin sat in the living room with Dwalin while Bilbo and Ori cleaned up the dishes. Ori insisted, maybe to get the burly men out of the way or to try and speak with Bilbo privately, Thorin wasn’t sure, but he appreciated the act none the less. Dwalin had a beer in hand and Thorin was leaning back on the couch as some evening news drawled in the background. After a few moments of silence Dwalin motioned with the bottle in his hands.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” Dwalin took a sip of his beer and scratched the back of his bald head. Thorin leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. His hands were clasped together as he could faintly hear Ori and Bilbo speaking in the kitchen. It made Thorin smiled softly. Thankfully his hair covered his face from Dwalin.

Thorin dug into his pocket and pulled out the business card from Bofur. Dwalin took it, flipping it over, and reading the inscription on the back. He took a swig of his beer.

“Bofur, Bilbo’s boss, told me to get him away from Smaug.”  Thorin’s voice was hushed. Dwalin put the card in his pocket and rocked slowly in the love seat. “That man, he must have come in. I barely heard what they were speaking about, but I could tell that Bofur was agitated.”

“Bofur is my partner’s cousin.” Was the only thing that Dwalin interjected.

“I can draw his face.” Thorin watched as they reported some follow up storms. Some coming from the south that would bring large amounts of precipitation for the next few days. Dwalin didn’t say anything for a long while. He was a quiet man that kept a lot of his thoughts to himself, as was his partner. Both men of few words and some of the toughest men he had the honor of knowing. When Dwalin met Ori it was like night and day. The rough edged man softened to Ori’s coyness and meek personality. He’d relentlessly teased him about it for months after he found out about the duo. At nearly five years Thorin had let up, but still gave sideways glances at Dwalin when he was being particularly soft.

“Bring it to me when you can, I’ll do some digging on Bilbo.” His usually booming voice was calm and sympathetic. Thorin nodded and leaned back, signaling the end of the conversation. Bilbo and Ori, for the most part Ori, were still speaking in the kitchen. Thorin tried to listen to them, but he didn’t want to appear as if he was eavesdropping. He’d had enough sense to know that it wouldn’t be good on his end and he was absolutely horrible at it. Dwalin hit his thigh with the butt of his beer.

“Hmm?” Thorin barely managed.

“You can’t save him unless he wants to be saved.” Thorin’s small smile faded and he barely tilted his head forward, but it was enough to hide his face from his best friend.

“I think that I was supposed to be on that bridge that night.” Thorin responded, a small trace of something dancing in his chest like a flame in a windstorm. At any point it could be distinguished, but it prevails despite the circumstances. Dwalin finished the last of his beer and stood from the love seat.

“Keep your feet on the ground, my friend.” Dwalin didn’t stop as he walked into the kitchen. Thorin gathered his hair up and put it into a messy bun with one of the many hair ties he had on his wrist.

Bilbo

Ori was plenty nice and easy enough to talk to. He was a soft spoken man that given the right fuel he could be just as raucous and Bilbo was over his handkerchiefs and timely meals. He enjoyed the company that Ori gave him. He never asked anything that might be too pressing, probably given a quick summary of Bilbo from Dwalin at some point before Bilbo presented himself here.

“I’ve been working on my book for a few years now and each time I get back the edited copy I can’t wait to perfect it until it’s finally published.” Ori scratched at the pan with the steel wool and the water made small splashes as he worked. “Although the frustration takes its toll sometimes.” Ori chuckled softly to himself as if he told an inside joke.

“What’s it about?” Bilbo sometimes didn’t realize he was even speaking. It was as if someone was pulling on his muscles with fishing line.

“I love history and it’s a compilation of the most devastating acts by humans.” Bilbo reminded himself to look into it once it was published. He’d hope to continue to be friends with Ori…...His library had to downsize greatly when he moved in with Smaug. He had said that I wouldn’t have time for books when he was with him. At the time it was exciting, but as the months drew on he grew dull with the lack of new information. He wondered if Thorin would be willing to let him borrow some of his books. In his adventures around the man’s grand house, he had noted that there were various bookshelves with numerous amounts of books. The sight of them sending an excited thrill through his body. Ori continued to speak although Bilbo’s mind was elsewhere,

“Finch?” Bilbo turned at his fake name. Ori was looking at him expectedly. Bilbo tried to recall what it was the man had asked. He simply blinked, but Ori smiled anyways. “Will you and Thorin be staying?” Bilbo shook his head, unsure of what Thorin’s plan was. Ori smiled again and gently grabbed the drying towel, which was now almost wet, and walked into the laundry room adjacent into the kitchen. After Thorin had made it apparent that they were being followed, Bilbo grew fearful for the next actions that would take place.

He knew that Smaug came in that day. Bilbo heard his agitated voice from the back. He didn’t move to make himself visible, but he did stop to hear what the conversation was between the two of them. He knew that Bofur disliked Smaug quite a lot. He had never been silent about his discontent at Bilbo’s situation. He had offered numerous times to take the man in for a while or forever. For the most part Bilbo felt companionship with Bofur, but he wasn’t sure that he could protect him for long. Smaug always found a way.

Ori came back from the laundry room and walked into the living room, Bilbo followed shortly after. Ori had his hands on his hips and had a raised eyebrow to Dwalin and Thorin who were speaking quietly about work. Dwalin looked up with a softness in his face that Bilbo felt rude for witnessing. Thorin must have had the same idea because he saw him turn his head away from the two lovers.

“I hope you two are comfy. Since Finch and I slaved over the kitchen to clean it from you too brutes.” Dwalin opened his mouth to say something, but a look from Ori silenced him. Ori had a fond smile on his face. “Now, Thorin as much as I love your company and the interesting people you bring to my door step, are you going to be staying or heading home.” Thorin finally looked over at Ori. “If you are staying I’ll have you set up the guest rooms for the two of you.” Thorin shook his head. His long hair falling into his eyes, making him have to reach up to brush it behind his ear. His five o clock shadow began to grow out and he scratched at it.

“That won’t be necessary Ori.” Thorin stood up. “I’ll take Finch back to my place, if he so wishes?” They all looked at Bilbo. He did want to go with Thorin. He nodded slowly and he thought he saw Thorin smile, but it was gone before he could appreciate it. Thorin gathered up their stuff as Ori said good bye to himself and Thorin. Dwalin nodded his head in Bilbo’s direction and he figured that was all he was going to get from the officer. Thorin led them out and into the drizzle. Although it was drizzling, Bilbo’s cardigan gave no protection against the storm. There was thunder in the distance and he stared off into the distance of the rumbling. He stood there for a moment before he felt something just across his back and he couldn’t help but flinch. Thorin stopped for a second before he continued to put his jacket over Bilbo’s shoulders. Thorin held the door open for Bilbo and he slipped in.

Bilbo was engulfed in the smell of Thorin. It was a little damp from the rain, but it still permeated his nose. It smelt of coffee from Bilbo’ work, the tang of paint, something akin to smoke from a fire, and a faint scent of a cologne maybe. Something musky and comprised of sandal wood. Bilbo didn’t bother buckling up as he curled into the seat he had taken his dirty shoes off and tucked his knees into his chest, which was now covered by Thorin’s jacket. As they drove from Dwalin’s home the rain began to steadily increase. They avoided the highway in favor of working the city streets. Somewhere between Dwalin’s home and the middle of town, Bilbo began to feel himself drift off. Either from exhaustion of the past few days or from the lulling scent of Thorin’s jacket and the warmth it provided. He wasn’t sure and didn’t dwell on anything long enough to really seek an answer.

Sometime had passed, but Bilbo didn’t really notice as he dozed in the car. Music playing softly in the background, but the loudest thing in the car aside from the rain was his breathing. It was ragged from the pain in his back and the incisions on his ribs. At some point they stopped and he knew he had to get out, but he was so far into his sleep cycle that he wished to be left alone. Shortly after that he felt the cool breeze from the storm, the soft patter of rain, and warm arms wrapping around his shoulders and knees, careful not to stir Bilbo awake and to prevent aggravation to the bruises on his back. Bilbo felt himself be carried from the car inside. For a moment he let his eyes open. Thorin didn’t seem to notice as he fumbled with the door and eventually got inside. His hair was slightly damp from the rain. He walked slowly, either out of carefulness to not jostle Bilbo awake, or because the man wasn’t used to lifting people Bilbo’s size – albeit he couldn’t weigh more than his nephews in his current state – all that often.

Either way, Bilbo appreciated it and closed his eyes again with a deep breath, curling his nose into Thorin’s chest relishing in the safety his arms provided. For a moment, Bilbo was content and the safest he’s felt in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so I hope to finish this before I ship out, but if I don't I'm sorry because I will be away from my country helping people in need for two years. I hope to you all that you enjoy this and I'll do my damndest to finish this with a happy ending they both deserve as well as my readers deserve.


	6. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to get this up the other day when I was sent home because of flooding, but as goes with flooding there were other things that got in my way

Dwalin

Being a cop for as long as he had, Dwalin had grown accustomed to waking up unceremoniously to various noises throughout the night.

Tonight was no exception.

Ori rarely ever awoke when things like this occurred. He slept sporadically as it was. Dwalin carefully threw off the sheets and grabbed his tactical flashlight, which was enough to deal with anything that might cause a large enough ruckus to wake him. He threw on a shirt remembering the rain and wandered to the last noise that was made. He heard another noise not too far from it and he crept to the window. After a few breaths he threw open the shade and switched on the light. Whoever was there was startled by the light and fell into the bushes. Dwalin got a good enough look of their face to store for later and bolted out the door in the direction of the peep. They were barely standing when Dwalin came barreling at them and they bolted off. Dwalin felt the mud soak through his toes and hinder his speed, but the other man seemed to be having the same trouble.

The other man cleared his fence and Dwalin resisted following him. He had a suspicion he would be seeing him soon enough. Dwalin waddled back inside with mud between his toes. He was sure he would get quite the earful from Ori once he woke to see the destruction. Dwalin shut the shade again after a quick look and went to the bathroom to watch his legs off.

Thorin

 _Don’t worry about that picture._ Thorin stared at the phone with blurry eyes. He barely managed a response before his eyes fell back into the pillow and he was asleep once more.

xXx

Once he finally woke up within his own terms he stretched and looked at the phone again, remembering the text message from earlier that morning. He stumbled out of bed and staggered down stairs and into the kitchen. He waited a moment as the coffee brewed and he grabbed some creamer. A few birds were chirping across from the window and Thorin took that as a good sign.  The past few days had been nothing but over cast and with the sun out he might be able to take Bilbo out for some fresh air without the threat of thunder or sudden precipitation. He had a sip of his coffee and wandered out of the kitchen. He heard a small noise come from the other end of the house and he padded over.

Bilbo was asleep with a book on his chest and curled up in the arm of the couch. Thorin took another sip of his coffee before he set it on the end table and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over Bilbo. The movement startled the man and Thorin carefully removed himself from his personal space. Bilbo looked around dazed for a moment before his eyes focused on the Thorin.

Thorin stared at the man who was once asleep peacefully on the couch and searched his eyes for a moment before he took a small step back. Bilbo’s hand twitched, but didn’t move beside that. The book, now dislodged in the commotion, began to slip from its position on Bilbo’s chest. He seemed to notice its presence again and grabbed it. He grabbed it and carefully handed it back to Thorin. Thorin looked at it for a second before he put his hands on Bilbo’s and pushed it back towards him.

Bilbo looked frightened for a moment before Thorin gave a small smile, “I’m not reading it.” Bilbo hesitated for a moment before he took the book back and set it on the arm of the couch. “I’ve actually already read it, a few times in fact.” Thorin kneeled down in front of Bilbo. He turned and rest his back on the couch, grabbing his coffee from the end table and taking a sip. “How do you like it so far?” Bilbo was quiet. Which didn’t surprise Thorin. It left an odd feeling in his chest when he couldn’t get Bilbo to speak to him. Like he was missing out on so much information he could learn about the man behind him. Thorin stared at the wall, an unfinished landscape hanging there.

“Bilbo.” Thorin turned his head up in surprise. “My name is Bilbo.” Thorin blinked as the fragile man looked down at him with an unreadable countenance. Thorin stood up and held out his hand.

“Hello Bilbo, my name is Thorin.” He smiled without teeth. Bilbo took his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Bilbo gave a watery smile and Thorin felt heart plummet at the sight and he kept his emotions under control as he shook the small man’s hand. Tentatively, Bilbo let go and sat with his hands tucked into his lap. “Are you hungry?” Bilbo nodded slowly and Thorin nodded just as slowly back. Thorin turned around and walked to the kitchen, he listened for the sound that Bilbo was following. He rubbed his face with his hands and nearly groaned in frustration.

He ignored the funny feeling in his abdomen and went on to scrounge for something for Bilbo to eat. He pulled out some batter and began to get the mix ready. Bilbo soon stumbled into the kitchen as if his legs were asleep. Thorin figured they might have been after seeing the way he was sleeping on the couch. Bilbo began to carefully rummage around the kitchen. Thorin simply continued to whisk the batter and wait for the iron to heat up.

Bilbo had pulled out some plates and found a few fruits from the fridge to begin cutting up. He stood for a moment looking at the small man cut the strawberries. Bilbo wiggled his toes often as if to some music he couldn’t hear. His cuts were clean and practiced. He again wondered what his profession would have been had he not been in this situation. Thorin poured a waffle and put the top down. He put a plate in the convection oven and turned it onto warm. Thorin leaned back onto the counter and continued to watch Bilbo. The color was returning to his cheeks and there was a little roundness to him that made Thorin smile in approval. Occasionally Bilbo would take a small piece of fruit and nibble on it. Thorin pretended not to notice.

Thorin took a deep breath and whipped around. He pulled the top off the waffle maker and a little puff of smoke was released and the nearly black waffle sticking to the top. Thorin whispered under his breath and he heard something behind him. He turned around and Bilbo was purposefully hiding his face. Thorin cleared his throat. “I’ll take this one.” Bilbo carefully looked over with a faint smile. Thorin turned to the waffle iron and began to overly concentrate on cooking the waffles.

“The weather is supposed to be nice out today.” Thorin hesitated on the second part of his minuscule speech. “I thought maybe you’d want to get out for a little while.” He heard Bilbo stop slicing and his heart did as well. There was a pregnant pause before Bilbo resumed slicing.

“I’d like to go out of town.” Thorin turned around and nodded.

“I can arrange that.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little short but I really needed to get something up for you guys.


	7. Lone Plains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized is flashback. Bold italicized is dream from flashback.  
> *Warning*  
> Mention of abuse.  
> Past abuse.  
> Slight starvation  
> Overly adorable characters that might lead to cooing.

Thorin

Thorin didn’t  think he’d ever use it. He thought Dwalin had gone overboard with the white elephant gift exchange last year, but now if he could clap the man on the shoulder he would have. He brushed off the basket and shook out whatever it had collected in its cushioned innards as it settled at the bottom of his pantry. It was some sort of wood woven together with the gaudiest ensemble of red lipstick lips dotting the stitched cushion inside. Bilbo had spent the last hour while Thorin looked for the god forsaken thing gathering up items to eat while they picnicked. He wiggled his way out from under the shelves in his pantry with a victorious cry, muffled by onions and potatoes.

He sat back on his haunches and stared at the basket with a mixture of disgust and elation. He turned to show it to Bilbo. The small man glanced over his shoulder as if he was afraid to be caught peeking. Thorin could tell by the crinkled skin around his eyes that he was smiling. Thorin stood up before his legs could lock themselves and he had to offer to crab walk the entirety of the trip. Bilbo had turned back around and was finishing up with the last of the snacks. He had neatly divided everything up into bags and began to place them into the basket. It had two little hinges in the middle which made it easy for both sides to be open while they loaded it up, Bilbo with food and Thorin with drinks.

He’d gone ahead and double checked the weather and it seemed that the day was going to stay relatively warm until tonight then the rest of the week was going to be much like before. This spring had brought forth a lot of rain and Thorin couldn’t say he was all that upset about it. It just meant this summer was going to be all that much more manageable. Thorin left the rest of the packing to Bilbo as he went in search of a blanket. When he came back he saw Bilbo finish up the packing and carefully shut the lid.

“Are you ready?” Thorin spoke softly not to startle Bilbo. The other man looped his arm through the handle and gave a barely there smile. He took that as a yes. He held his hand out in front of him and Bilbo began to walk to the front door. Thorin grabbed a few more little items and locked the door behind him. He set the blanket in the back seat and saw Bilbo had already placed the basket in the back and was curled up in the passenger seat as per usual. Thorin finished up in the back and moved to the driver seat. He started the car and waited for a moment.

“Any place you have in mind?” Thorin started. Bilbo continued to look out the windshield.

“I haven’t been out of the city since I moved here.” Thorin’s heart skipped. It was probably the most he’d gotten out of the man since he’d helped him that night. He didn’t count the screaming that he got whilst helping him and when he awoke the next morning. He also felt his blood boil at the idea that someone had caged this man so severely. He released his vice like grip on the steering wheel and put the car into reverse. He wasn’t going to waste the day thinking about all the ways he could maim the man responsible for such heinous acts. This was for Bilbo. He read somewhere that fresh air had healing qualities. He put the car into drive and prayed that to be true.

Bilbo

Bilbo grew up many miles outside of the city. It was true that he hadn’t been out of the city since he’d arrived, but he also knew of plenty wonderful picnic areas that were within driving distance. He preferred to see where Thorin took him. He could barely tell what the man was thinking half the time let alone why he would be so selfless as to take in a bruised and battered stray when it seemed like the man had every reason not to. Bilbo came with enough baggage to fill a 747. Sometimes the weight of it all made him lay in bed and sink into the blankets until the bed swallowed him whole and everything consuming about him. He felt his heart seize and the scars on his arms itch.

He resisted the urge to scratch. Instead he twisted his legs into a more comfortable position and pressed his back into the seat. He winced at the dull pain, but didn’t show any discomfort aside from that. Bilbo would have been happy with spending the day in Thorin’s back yard. The trees around his house had an abundance of shade and his back yard was well cared for. It had a little picket fence that bordered the forest, one that was easily over looked for the beauty of the forest. Albeit a little muddy with all of the rainfall from the week. Bilbo wasn’t even sure what day it was. He lost track after Bofur told him he would keep him off the schedule until he called in with a note of wellness and stability.

For the most part Bilbo didn’t mind, but the anxiety still boiled up when he thought he might be late for work. Thorin was very good at calming him down from an attack.

**_The hands on his body were like iron and he couldn’t release their hold. He cried out, but it was no use, they simply held on tighter. He could feel tears welling in his eyes and his voice go hoarse from screaming._ ** _Suddenly real hands were in his  hair and on the back of his neck. He was being pulled up into an embrace and he awoke from his dream. He was shaking and crying while he held onto the person that was currently wrapped around him. He didn’t realize they were talking with his own whimpering  and crying consuming his senses. His hands pulled at the fabric of the person in front of him and the words slowly began to clear through his conscience._

_“Bilbo, Bilbo, shh. I got you. I’ve got you.” Thorin’s soothing voice cut through the last strands of the nightmare and Bilbo tried to take calming breaths. Thorin went to remove himself from Bilbo, but Bilbo held on tighter and pulled Thorin closer. Thorin rubbed his back and Bilbo’s sporadic breathing calmed and he quickly began to fall back asleep. He still didn’t let go of Thorin as he leaned back with drooping eyes and regulated breathing. Thorin fell with him and lay on his side, rubbing his back. Bilbo fell into a less fitful rest._

Bilbo hadn’t realized he was day dreaming until Thorin pulled off the freeway and he was surrounded by rolling plains. A few trees dotted the hills and the tall grass waved in the slight breeze. Bilbo rested his head on the window and watched as they came to a slow halt and pulled onto a dirt road. The music played softly as they drove. The road wasn’t too bad, but there were a few divots that Thorin had a hard time avoiding. Bilbo uncurled and braced himself on the seat. After about ten minutes of driving they crested a hill and pulled off the little dirt path. In front of them was a large swamp oak tree. Bilbo got out and took a deep breath of the warm air. A hint of rain on the breeze, but nothing overwhelming. Bilbo walked to the tree and put a hand on the bark, there were quite a few little acorns on the ground and Bilbo was quick to shuck off his shoes and feel the untrimmed grass between his toes.

He looked over the edge of the hill and there were more oaks dotting the landscape. The hills went on for miles until he couldn’t see the horizon any more. He walked forward as the breeze picked up slightly and the shade from the old oak swayed on his face. He heard noise behind him and Thorin had laid out the blanket and set the basket down on it. He sat there cross legged for a while whilst Bilbo took in the scenery around him. Once he’d had his fill he walked over to the blanket and sat down on the edge.

“Are you hungry?” Thorin offered. Bilbo was a little puckish from the drive, so he made a move to the basket, but Thorin intercepted him and grabbed the basket. Bilbo panicked for split second as Thorin opened the basket, taking stock of the book that Bilbo had hid in there, before placing it next to the basket without a hint of negative emotion. Bilbo calmed himself down as Thorin handed him a small bowl of fruit. Bilbo accepted it graciously and leaned back on the blanket. He stared up at the tree as he waited for Thorin to begin eating.

“You don’t have to wait for me to eat.” Thorin spoke with an undertone of frustration. Bilbo shot up and looked at him. He took a deep breath and gave a reassuring glance. Bilbo sat staring at him for a long moment. “If you’re hungry, you can eat whenever you like.” His voice was soft and sincere. So different from his usual gruff when speaking with Dwalin or even to himself when he thought Bilbo wasn’t listening. Bilbo picked up a raspberry and shakily put it to his mouth. He hesitated, but when Thorin made no move to yell or strike him he put it in his mouth and began to chew. He watched Thorin the entire time and minus the slight dilation change in his eyes there was no change in his behavior or body. Bilbo carefully turned around and continued to eat the assortment of berries from the small container.

He took a deep breath and expanded his lungs as large as he could as he inhaled everything the environment had to offer. There were a few acorns laying around where he was sitting and he picked them up. He twirled them in his hand before laying on his back and rolling over to his stomach so he could flick them towards Thorin. They rolled up and then slowly back down to Bilbo.

“When I was young we used to come here as a family and gather the acorns for the holidays. My brother and sister and I. Some we ate, some we decorated.” Thorin laid on his side and used his arm to prop him up. He grabbed one from rolling down and inspected it. “After my mom got sick we stopped to take care of her and then we forgot for a long time.” Thorin rolled the acorn between his fingers. “Then when my sister had her babies we started it up again and the boys love it.” He chuckled as he stared distantly at the ground. “It’s like Easter, but less sugar highs.” He gave a small smile.

“So did my mother.”  Bilbo stopped the acorns and twirled them around his fingers. Thorin tilted his head at Bilbo. “Got sick.” Thorin nodded slowly. “She died not long after.” Thorin made a small twitch, but didn’t move beyond that.

“My mother lived for a long time after, fighting for her life.” Thorin took a deep breath. He slowly rolled onto his back and looked up at the tree.

“You have nephews?” Thorin looked over.

“Yes two of them. Fili and Kili. Handfuls they are.” He had a fond smile on his face. Bilbo scooted up a little and sat on his haunches.

“Have you gone yet?” Bilbo inquired softly.

“Well we were supposed to go this weekend, it usually the perfect time, but the weather has not been permitting.” Bilbo began to stand up and look around at the few acorns on the ground. Thorin watched him carefully.

“We should give them something to gather then.” Before Thorin could question him, Bilbo ran to the base of the tree and jumped to the nearest branch. His toes scraped for purchase on the tree and finally heaved himself onto the branch. Thorin launched himself up in worry.

“Bilbo!” Thorin tried to reach for him, but he’d already managed to get halfway up the tree. A few acorns falling as he did so. Bilbo didn’t respond as he went from limb to limb shaking them until Thorin was showered in acorns and had to cover his head to avoid a major contusion. He chuckled softly. Bilbo was near the top and began to jump and push the tree around. It creaked and groaned, but didn’t give. “Bilbo! Be careful!” Thorin called as he saw the hundreds of acorns fall to the ground. Finally the shaking stopped and Bilbo began to descend down. Thorin watched as he carefully maneuvered the branches. Just as he reached the first line of limbs his foot slipped and he felt himself plummet to the ground, but before he could reach it, strong arms were around him and held him close. His heart raced in his chest and he opened his eyes to Thorin staring down at him with concern.

Bilbo sucked in a breath and stared back up at him. Nothing was said as they bought caught their breath. Thorin gingerly set Bilbo down and Bilbo walked to the blanket, now covered in acorns. He brushed some away and made room for the two of them. Thorin joined him soon after.

xXx

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Bilbo had pulled out his book and began to read then after a moment began to read aloud to Thorin. Soothed by his voice Thorin fell asleep and woke  up when Bilbo shook him gently as he felt a cool wind pick up and clouds appear over the horizon. Thorin packed up the food and Bilbo grabbed a few acorns to take with him. They packed into the car as the first signs of rain neared. The closer they got to the city the more Bilbo closed up. Thorin disliked it, but he made no comment as the free way came into view. He needed another day like that for the serenity it provided Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I added some plot development into this one for the hell of it. Also the setting is actually a place in California called Rolling Hills and pictures don't do it justice.


	8. Storm Clouds Keep Me at Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is not going to be a fluffy chapter. I would say I'm sorry but you're all still reading so who's the sucker?  
> Triggers:  
> Homophobia  
> Physical Abuse  
> Mental Abuse  
> Alcohol Abuse  
> Past Neglect  
> Verbal Abuse

Nights were hard for Thorin. They usually brought over thinking and drinking which causes more over thinking, but in a dissociative way as if the pain was happening to someone else. He thought about the man above him. The one he heard screaming in the middle of the night and often found himself sleeping next to when he couldn’t get the shaking to cease. Those mornings where he woke up with a head on his chest and a light feeling consuming his body. He often slipped out before Bilbo noticed, but not without noticing the change in countenance on the other man. These mornings were usually followed directly with a cold shower and a long time staring at a canvas with no inspiration while his mind whirred with possibilities.

He stumbled from the couch, the tumbler empty again and his throat burning. His eyes were fuzzy as he braced himself against the wall of the kitchen. He grabbed the bottle, forgetting about the tumbler and walking out into the back porch. The air was bitter, but he didn’t sense the oncoming of a storm quite yet. A few days had passed since their adventure and he still couldn’t get Bilbo to talk to him they way he did at the plains. He felt like a creep. He shouldn’t have picked him  up on the side of the road. He should have just called Dwalin to send somebody down there. He fidgeted his legs and rubbed at his growing arousal at the mere thought of the mysterious man laying only a few feet away, which only furthered his self deprecation at his interest in the man he’s trying to help. The cold chill did nothing to help him. Something moved in the woods behind his house and he leaned on the railing to try and get a better look.

He took a swig of his drink as a small herd of does came into view. He leaned back in his heels and took a deep breath of the night air. They grazed for a moment at the base of his fence line before wandering off into the night once more. He reminded himself to clean up his garden. Thorin wondered if Bilbo liked gardening. If the weather ever got nice he might leave him to do as he pleased with the neglected garden. A light came on next to him. The window to Bilbo’s room was lit up and he could see his shadow moving across the yard from the second story. He watched for a moment before staring back into the dark of the forest. He took another drink of the whisky and felt the liquid warm his veins as a chill ran down his spine. After a few moments the light went off and he suspected he went back to bed. He was almost happy that he didn’t wake up screaming tonight. In Thorin’s current disposition he was afraid he might do something completely unwarranted. The drink addling his mind and blurring his conscience.

Thorin leaned back off the rail and walked down the small porch into the back yard, drink still in hand. He walked to the edge of the fence line, nearly tripping over the small bushes there. He played with the leaves for a bit and admired the plants that managed to survive before he turned around to see the silhouette of someone standing at the railing. It took him a moment to see the curled tangle of hair as Bilbo. He stood absolutely still. The fragile creature at the railing simply stared back, his back lit slightly from the dim porch light. With as much caution as approaching a herd of does, Thorin took a few steps forward. Bilbo didn’t move. Thorin wondered briefly if he was sleep walking. He hadn’t done it yet, but he didn’t want to rule out the possibility. After another moment of hesitation he cleared the rest of the distance and stood next to Bilbo on the porch. From what he could see his eyes were open and he was staring straight at Thorin.

Thorin wasn’t sure what to do, so he held out the nearly empty bottle to Bilbo. He wasn’t sure if he was going to take it. He looked at it for a moment, as if weighing his options, before shaking his head and turning back to the forest. Thorin resumed his position on the railing, looking out into the night. Shortly after, Bilbo joined him. There was a long silence before Bilbo just barely opened his mouth, as if punched in the stomach. Thorin disliked that imagery and shook his head gently to rid his mind of it. He didn’t want to see any more harm come to Bilbo if he was around to stop it. Thorin set the bottle next to his feet and held his head in his hands.

“If the weather ever decides to stay decent, would you like to join me in the garden? I never had a hand for plants, either too much or too little.” Thorin continued to look forward as he paused. “But when there’s a lull in cases it always keeps me occupied.” Finally he looked at Bilbo and found him looking back at him.

“I would find that most enjoyable.” Bilbo didn’t stop staring at him with his eyes that looked depthless in the dark. He looked away and Thorin was nearly adamant to continue to stare, but instead looked down. He focused on his hands as if trying to count the wrinkles. His eyes were fuzzy and his blood felt hot under his skin. There was another moment of silence before Bilbo moved closer to Thorin and leaned on his side with his head on his shoulder. Thorin nearly stopped breathing. Instead he just barely tilted his head and set it on Bilbo’s.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Bilbo was quiet. He worried he’d lost his conversation partner and instead was left with the shell that he arrived at his house in.

“I got up to use the restroom,” He started off. “But then I saw a lonely man in need of company and it would be no bother of mine to join him, if only for a moment, if he’ll let me.” Thorin could feel his body move as he spoke. He didn’t think he could ever be enthralled by a person’s voice, but that was the only way to describe how he felt in this moment. He turned slightly, looking at Bilbo out of the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not a bother at all. You’re actually must appreciated.” Bilbo turned to look at him. He gave the barest hint of a smile and Thorin nearly fainted. His blood seemed to rush to numerous places, all of which were completely inappropriate for the man in front of him. Not that he wasn’t gay. He had been for as long as he could remember. His brother used to say that it was Dis’ masculine personality that convinced Thorin that all women could just be better off men for him. Thorin’s father never found it amusing or even remotely acceptable. His siblings did their best, but he still saw the constant disapproval in his father’s eyes. His mother didn’t approve, but he never got the feeling she stopped loving him. She always welcomed him home and was kind to any boyfriend he might mention or bring around.

To this day he hadn’t spoken to his father since his graduation from art school. His mother called and occasionally sent messages detailing some shenanigan about life at home, but never about his father. Which he took as no news is good news. He didn’t wish for the day to come when he had to make the choice of living with the regret of not sending himself to his father or to send for his love and have it spat in his face just as it has been for the entirety of his life.

“What are your nightmares about?” Bilbo’s soft voice stirred him out of his stupor. He was brought back to the present and remembered the miraculous man who trusted him for some god forsaken reason, but he wasn’t about to go and throw it all away. For a moment he forgot that Bilbo had even asked him a question and he stared at the mop of curls on his shoulder. He took a deep breath before answering.

“I may have never worked for the force personally, but there’s still a lot I know and have seen that’s enough to keep me up at night.” Bilbo was silent in response. It was a long few moments before he responded.

“Do you have nightmares involving me?” Thorin stopped mid swig and thankfully he did, for he might have choked when asked the question. He took a second before he set the bottle down and thought about how he should answer. He dare not lie to the man, he’d seen enough false truths in his life. Thorin didn’t want to be another perpetuator.

“Well I don’t have _nightmares_ about you.” He heard how shaky his voice sounded and he hoped that it didn’t frighten Bilbo. He felt the smaller man slide off his shoulder and he mentally kicked himself for being so forward. The other man turned and looked at Thorin.

“I also don’t have nightmares about you.” Thorin felt all the blood in his body vacate to southern portions. He chastised his drunken state at being so susceptible to arousal. He hadn’t realized he’d turned his body until Bilbo held his hand out and barely touched his forearm. Thorin stood stock still. His mind wandering back to the deer that were in his back yard just a moment ago. Bilbo’s hand slowly ran up his arm, leaving hardly any pressure at all in the areas he was touching. He eventually reached Thorin’s collar bone where he stopped and looked up at Thorin. Thorin’s breathing was labored and he blamed the alcohol. Bilbo’s eyes sparkled in the dim light. He was once again reminded of the deer that grazed in his backyard. Thorin continued to stand like a wall. Minus his racing heart and hard breaths he could be mistaken for a wall.

Bilbo reach up and cupped his hand against Thorin’s face. Thorin wanted to reach out so badly he began to shake softly in Bilbo’s hand.

“How do I know this isn’t a dream right now?” Bilbo ran is eyes over Thorin’s face.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Later when he told Dwalin the story he would call him addicted to frivolous Romantic Comedies, but right now he could only focus on Bilbo’s face slowly reaching closer to his. Thorin parted his lips just barely and he could feel Bilbo’s breath on his lips, it took all of the control he had in his body to not pull him in close to shield him from the cold of the night. Bilbo closed the distance between their lips and Thorin took a small step toward Bilbo. Bilbo moved his other hand to rest on Thorin’s hand and placed it on Bilbo’s hip. Thorin gasped and he could feel Bilbo smile against his lips. He was slightly hurt he wasn’t able to see him smile.

Bilbo pulled away and stared up at Thorin. “Don’t you want to kiss me as well?”

“I want to kiss you all the time,” Thorin was breathless. “I also want to give you the utmost care.” Thorin opened the eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed and stared at the man in front of him. Bilbo had a small smile, with the barest hint of teeth. He moved forward and kissed Thorin again, this time Thorin couldn’t resist putting his hands on Bilbo’s waist. He circled his thumbs on the smaller man’s hips. After what felt like hours Bilbo pulled back and stepped away.

“We should get back to bed.” Bilbo let go of Thorin and began to walk inside. Thorin followed him soon after. The bottle of whiskey left on the porch. Thorin walked behind Bilbo the entire way to his room and said a soft good night before Bilbo softly closed the door and Thorin finally stopped shaking. Thorin stood there for a half a second before he slowly walked to his room. He didn’t even bother to take off his clothes before falling instantly asleep.

xXx

There was a knock on the door that startled Thorin awake. He blearily took in the time on the clock and had barely the energy to motivate himself to get out of bed. He wouldn’t say it was a particularly bad hang over, it was simply his lack of sleep which was begging him to return to bed save for the knocking which repeated itself every few moments. He looked at his phone to see if he had received any messages and was surprised to find none. He figured if someone was in such need to see him they would at least inform him they would be arriving.

He shuffled to his bedroom door, but by the time he reached the top of the stairs, Bilbo had opened the door and was standing stiffly in the doorway. Thorin couldn’t see who was on the other side, but he had a gut feeling it wasn’t a friendly face. Bilbo continued to stand stock still even though Thorin could hear the other person talking on the outside of the door. Thorin slowly came down the stairs and dreaded not getting up sooner.

He nearly cleared the railing, but he was concerned that any sudden movement would frighten Bilbo, so he continued to take the stairs at a gradual pace, as one would do when sneaking out of your parent’s house. He still couldn’t hear the other man talking, but he didn’t want to. Any of his venomous words that might hurt Bilbo was the last thing he wanted in his house.

Smaug’s face finally turned to Thorin as he came up beside Bilbo and put his hand on the frightened man’s shoulder. Bilbo snapped out of his trance and took a step back, so he was shielded by Thorin’s body. He could feel Bilbo shake as if the onset of  a seizure were approaching. He wanted to turn and hold him, but he didn’t dare turn his back on the snake in front of him. He squared his shoulders and widened his stance. He may still be a little tipsy, but he wasn’t about to let Smaug know that.

“May I come inside? I wish to see how my boyfriend is fairing.” Thorin nearly felt sick as he heard the words come out of his mouth.

“I would prefer you left my premises and never returned.” Thorin kept his voice steady despite the growing aggression in his blood stream.

“I won’t leave without Bilbo. I have searched for him everywhere.” Thorin didn’t want to know how he came to discover his house, but he didn’t care at the moment. He was only concerned with Bilbo’s safety.

“Did you put up ‘Lost’ posters everywhere?” Thorin was teeming. “He wasn’t lost. He’s not something you own and demand back!” Thorin tried to reel in his anger, but the calm demeanor Smaug was presenting only aggravated him more.

“No one asked you to care for him.” For a moment Thorin saw the resolve on Smaug slip, and he thought Bilbo did as well, for he whimpered behind him. “But I do ask for him to come home. I’ve missed him these past few months.” Smaug was no longer looking at him. He was looking at Bilbo behind him.

“I’ve politely asked you to leave my property, next time won’t be so congenial.” Thorin lowered his voice and reached for the door. As he swung it closed he saw Smaug move with a speed he hadn’t originally accounted for. The sound is what reached Thorin’s ears first. The soft thud followed by an almost inaudible click. Bilbo called out next and then Thorin heard him hit the ground. Thorin barely saw the nuzzle of the gun before he threw open the door and charged Smaug. He kept his body low in case he fired and pile drived the tall man into the yard. Some would argue it was bravery, others stupidity, but at the moment all Thorin thought was his incessant need to protect Bilbo. At the risk of his own life.

They both fell onto the yard. Smaug was taller, but Thorin was not an unfit man. He hoped to hear the gun fall onto the rocks, but alas Smaug had a steady grip on it. He did hear the other man’s head collide with the ground and for a moment was still as he oriented before Thorin grabbed at his arm and tried to dislodge the gun. Smaug was like an angry cat and writhed and slipped from Thorin’s grasp. Not before Thorin landed a few good hits to Smaug’s face. He had blood running down his face as he aimed the gun with an unsteady hand. Either from the hits to the face or the impact to the ground Thorin wasn’t sure. Thorin was on his knees with the gun to his head. He stared at the man unyielding.

“Now,” Smaug wiped his face with the back of his free hand and spat at Thorin’s knees. “I’ll be taking what’s mine.” Thorin nearly jumped up again when he heard Bilbo yell.

“Thorin, don’t!” Bilbo came running out of the house. “I’ll go with him.” Smaug had a sick grin on his face. “Don’t hurt Thorin. Please Smaug.” Bilbo whimpered and put himself between Thorin and the barrel of the gun. “I won’t run away again. I’ll stay with you.” Thorin could hear him crying, but couldn’t see his face.

“Bilbo, don’t.” Thorin pleaded.

“Speak when spoken to.” Smaug spat again. He looked again at Bilbo. “You’ll come home with me?” Bilbo nodded through sobs and Thorin felt his heart drop. There was a moment when he stopped breathing as Smaug kept the gun raised and Bilbo continued to sob. Smaug put the gun away, but grabbed Bilbo by the arm and dragged him into his embrace. He could almost hear the bones creak as Smaug tightened his grip on Bilbo. Thorin knew when to stand his ground and when to wait.

It took everything in his power to not launch himself at Smaug again as he walked away with Bilbo, one eye always on Thorin. He stuffed Bilbo in his vehicle and with one last look at Thorin he sped off. Thorin threw himself on the ground and pounded into the dirt. His knuckles would be bloodied and bruised but he didn’t care. He should have put up more of a fight. He felt hot tears hit his knuckles as he exhausted himself into a trance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been edited about a hundred times because each time i go to post i realize I haven't finished the chapter and also i got kicked out of my house so I'm between homes at the moment. So in frequency is going to be a huge thing and I'm sorry for that.


	9. Hard Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already listened to Paramore's new album please do it. It's called After Laughter and it has been my anthem for the past few weeks indefinitely.

Thorin feared the worst every time Dwalin came around now. He had no hope left after the day Smaug took Bilbo back. It had been a week and he had filed a report, but nothing had come up. It was like they vanished. Thorin had done his own investigating despite Dwalin’s warnings.

_“Thorin, let me do my job.” Dwalin tried to calm the man down. “I’ll find him.” That’s what Thorin was worried about. Bilbo would be found. Eventually, but he didn’t want that finding to be a fatal one. He was up at all hours of the night searching and trying to use his connects as he may._

_“Dwalin –“ This wasn’t the Dwalin that Thorin had grown up with and shared numerous memories with, this was the Dwalin that was a hardened officer and had dealt with serious traumas before._

_“You know the procedure. You’ve filed your report, now you have to wait.” Dwalin put a hand on his shoulder and his face softened. “I will do everything in my power to ensure that Bilbo is found and consequences will be seen to Smaug, if not for the abuse and rape, but for the trespassing and assault.” Thorin moved to speak, but Dwalin stopped him again. “It’s not what should be done, but it’s what can be done.”_

Thorin didn’t tell Dwalin how every night he was left awake and restless. Either constant tears at the lid of his eyes or that he would be driving around late at night. Searching and doing everything he could to find Bilbo. His drinking had skyrocketed to levels before….He looked at the clock and tried to convince himself that 12 in the afternoon was a late enough time to start chugging at the bottle of scotch he had bought in a surplus on his last sober outing. The drinking kept the overwhelming guilt at bay and he was prone to it every second that he didn’t have Bilbo in his sights. If he just _knew_.

He started to walk towards the pantry where the scotch was kept when he thought he heard his door bell ring. A shot of anxiety struck his heart and he nearly collapsed. His legs were shaking as he ventured to the hallway. He paused staring at the door. His apprehension rooted in the past and in what could be behind that door.  This time it was a more forceful knock and he lurched forward. He grabbed the handle and threw open the door.

Ori stood holding something in his hands, but he didn’t get a chance to ask before he was shoved through the door by the smaller man.

“Gosh, you’d think you’d be more excited to have company over this last week.” He chided Thorin as Thorin slowly shut the door in confusion and Ori walked to the kitchen. Thorin followed in a stupor.

“Ori…” He tried, but couldn’t exactly find the words to address the situation.

“I haven’t got much time. Dwalin doesn’t know I’m here and he gets off patrol soon.” He put what he had down in the counter where Thorin stood just a moment debating on whether or not to spend the rest of the night in a drunken void. Thorin noticed for the first time the detail that the writer put into his dress today. He was only a step down from a tuxedo. Thorin tilted his head slightly, his uncombed hair falling in his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he showered.

“You didn’t have to get dressed up just to see me.” In juxtaposition to Thorin’s week old attire and no doubt reek of a mixture of whiskey, scotch, and sweat. ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Ori didn’t wrinkle his nose, nor did he comment on Thorin’s current state.

“Dwalin and I are getting our adoption papers finalized today.” There was a softness in his voice and a fondness in his brown eyes. Thorin slowly nodded, but otherwise stayed silent. He looked at what Ori had presented him. It was a basket of what looked like cookies. He smirked a little, but still made no comment. Ori looked at the cookies then back up at Thorin.

“I didn’t come here just to show off my baking skills or my attire.” Thorin frowned. He hadn’t really thought about it, but now he was curious as to why he was here. And why he hadn’t told Dwalin. He was about to speak up when something in Ori’s face made him stop. “Do you remember when Dwalin went on that sting mission?” Thorin nodded slowly. He had. The city next over had been infiltrated by rogue cops that the gangs were using to transport large amounts of heroin into the city with little to no harassment. He was sent over to pretend to be a rogue cop working for the gangs, but was in actuality working for Erebor. He was required to cut off all communications with anyone who might be from Erebor.

The sting had lasted three months and almost every night Ori was with Thorin. He had worried himself sick and unable to care for himself. The writer had experienced massive writers block and was barely bringing in any money. Thorin softened his expression.

“I thought that I wouldn’t get him back.” Ori’s voice didn’t waver, but he could have sworn he saw his eyes start to shine. “I doubted him. After all his successful missions.” Ori shook his head and the shine was gone. “But he came back.” He did. But it had cost him half of the squad he was with. He got some medal on it, but he never wore it. He thought it was wrong and locked it away in his sock drawer. Thorin was there when he was awarded it.

“You’ve served with him longer than I have even known him.” He took a pause, but Thorin didn’t think it was an invitation to talk. “He will do whatever he can to get him back.” There was still a sad undertone to Ori’s hopeful speech. It was because he knew that much like the sting, he would complete it to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t ensure that it would be one hundred percent successful, nor could he promise that he would bring Bilbo back….alive. The thought lingered in Thorin’s head and he nearly choked. He chided himself for being so transparent. He was so afraid of losing Bilbo that he couldn’t even put a name to what it was that was tearing him up inside.

Thorin looked down at the cookies and Ori gave a small smile. “Thank you.” Thorin said through his teeth. It wasn’t displeasure in Ori, it was his own displeasure in himself. He gripped the counter with white knuckles. Ori placed his hand on his in a soothing gesture. A trill noise sounded and Ori let go of his hand. Thorin realized it was the first human contact he had had in a week.

“Dwalin just got off, so I better get going before he gets too worried.” Thorin’s heart sank a little to think that Ori came here in secret. He still wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t get the second to ask before Ori patted his chest and gave him a sincere glance. “Their pumpkin chocolate chip.” Thorin looked at the cookies as Ori saw himself out. He reached out and grabbed one, taking a bite. This was also one of the first substantial things he had eaten in a week as well. He finished the cookie and went to the pantry. He grabbed the two bottles of scotch and the remaining bottle of whiskey. He ripped off the protective seal and sent them down to drain in the sink.

He berated himself for allowing himself to wallow in self pity for a week, but he was finished with that now. His resignation in the next course of action was solidified as he took another cookie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a PSA:  
> As you know if you've been following this that I have been homeless for the past few weeks and at the end of my semester just a few weeks before graduation and trying to hold a job, it has not been easy. But as I sit writing this, I am eating my weight in Chinese food in bed with My Thorin in our apartment (An hour away from my school and job) and I am set to graduate and my bosses have taken into consideration my predicament and are being very fluid with me.  
> So while I write this and try and keep you guy's interested in this story I want everyone to know I appreciate the kudos and comments and anything you guys offer for your admiration of my story and any of my stories for that matter. Also I don't condone (nor should anyone) any of the abuse or the substance abuse or self harm or any trigger in this, but what I AM going to say is please if any of you are having hard times please talk to someone. Get help if you can. I have had so much help from people who genuinely care about me and I have learned a lot about the people who don't or didn't. So don't let it be too late to ask for help because it isn't.   
> This has been a PSA from me and a huge thank you also from me.  
> -Faith


	10. Hold On to Hope If You've Got It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I'm mostly stable I am really excited to pick up writing again. So here's another chapter.

On his list of horrible experiences, sleeping in a pine tree had to be at least number four. His ass was sticky and he wasn’t sure if he could even recover his hair at this point. His back hurt from the position he crammed himself into and he was currently trying not to get needles in his eyes. He had no doubt that he wouldn’t be recognized as a human once he found civilization. He thankfully hadn’t made friends with any of the cute woodland creatures that were staring at him rather curiously from the branch across from him.

_The car was parked at a gas station. Smaug growled under his breath as the machine beeped for the fourth time and announced that he must go inside to see an attendant. Bilbo pretended to be asleep as he heard Smaug walk off. The cuffs on his wrists ached and he took a deep breath. What he was about to do would hurt a lot more than some sore muscles. He knew he would have barely five minutes to try and get loose. His back ached from having his arms strapped between his knees._

_He took two more deep breaths before he reached down to get a grip on his thumb. After the second breath he twisted and stifled a cry. Searing pain shot through his arm as he pulled his wrist through the cuff. He pulled the rest of the cuff through the loop and saw Smaug was still held up at the counter. From where he was, if he could get into the back seat he wouldn’t be able to be seen from where Smaug was standing. He gave one last look and scrambled into the back before throwing open the door, shutting it with his foot and dashing across the street._

_At this time of night there was no one around and he made a split second decision to head for the trees rather than back down the street. He held the cuffs in the still attached hand and held his broken thumb close to his chest as he bolted through the woods. His thumb was throbbing, but he didn’t stop running. He couldn’t see the stars, so he continued to run in zig-zag patterns. He didn’t hear anyone behind him yet, but he wasn’t about to get caught. He looked through the trees and saw one that had a knot not too far off the ground. He used that to hoist himself up to the nearest branch and nearly cried out in pain. He squinted his eyes and began to reach for other branches despite the sticky bark and stabbing needles. A few squirrels scurried past him as he continued to climb. Each branch sending new waves of pain up his arm._

_Finally he couldn’t see the ground anymore and called it safe._

He looked down in trepidation. He began to think that climbing into trees in the middle of the night is a heat of the moment idea and should not be taken as a genuine idea. He uncurled his legs and took into consideration his confined space. His thumb throbbed and he ripped off a section of his shirt to wrap it around the wound. He took a deep breath and began to shimmy down. Once he got going it wasn’t so bad, so he managed to get down relatively quickly. He looked at the early morning sun and decided to head north. Wherever he was, he knew he could reach someone if he continued north.

xXx

Thorin

His phone buzzed absently on the bed. He jolted awake as it buzzed again. He grabbed it and answered it without looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” He was groggy and frantic. His heart beat in his chest from the startle. There was static on the other line and he looked at the screen. The numbers ticked away as it flashed that the phone call was active. He put his ear to the phone again. “Hello?” This time a little louder and a little clearer.

“Th-n. S-d Dwa-. I-Please.” Thorin’s heart stopped and he jumped off the bed.

“Bilbo!” His voice cracked as he tried to continue.

“Yes. Th-Ple-I-Smau-looking.” The static was unbearable and Thorin was crying from relief and frustration. He was so close. He was throwing on his clothes and whatever drunkenness he was under before was completely gone as he ran down the stairs. He stopped for a second.

“Bilbo, the connection is bad. I’m coming for you.” He heard some more noise on the other line before a click and dial tone. He ran back up the stairs, he reached Bilbo’s room and grabbed a few clothes for him. He bolted out of his house, not bothering to lock up. He threw the clothes in the back of his car and peeled out of the drive way. His phone rang through the speakers as he called Dwalin. His thumbs drummed on the steering wheel as he stopped at a red light, waiting for Dwalin to pick up. After the fourth ring he answered.

“Thor-“

“He just called me. It looks like the number is from Moria. I think it might be a payphone.” Dwalin was quiet on the other line. He heard some typing than a sigh.

“I just sent the Moria police department a tip. If they find him they’ll let me know.”

“I plan on finding him first.” He knew Dwalin was going to say something along the lines of ‘let the officers do their job’, but he was silent.

“Be careful.” Then the call ended and Thorin took a deep breath. It would be a long six hours, but he would reach Bilbo and bring him home before anyone could tell him otherwise. He prayed Bilbo was somewhere safe and hidden away. Fear gripped his heart as he thought about what could happen to him if he wasn’t safe. Escaping from Smaug could have him off worse than he was, and if Smaug dared tried anything or if he saw him anywhere near Bilbo, than it wouldn’t just be a missing person’s case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you wished we are ever so closer to saving Bilbo. Also since I'll have more time since I graduated I am thinking about starting up another story. Basically a Life is Beautiful AU. I hope to have the first chapter up tonight.


	11. Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Past Abuse  
> Mentions of Rape  
> Graphic Depictions Of Vomiting

Correction: Sleeping in a tree is number six on his list of horrible experiences. After he had made a desperate call to Thorin with a payphone on the outskirts of Moria, he did his best to find a place where he wouldn’t be found by Smaug and he could maybe hide out until he could get into contact with Thorin again or Dwalin. In hindsight that might have been the most effective use of his sixty cents on a payphone that looked like it had been bent by the miss happens of Clark Kent’s quick changes. He craned his neck around and heard several cracks. He winced and took a second to get used to the stiffness and try to alleviate some of the tension in his neck. The irony of the situation is rock bottom. He’d thought being abused by Smaug was…, but he always had some comfort in his life. Either work or even the few hours that Smaug was gone. He wasn’t necessarily forbidden from leaving the house as long as he was always home when Smaug got back. In essence it was a small freedom – in hindsight probably it was part of his slight rebellion – that he relished in. Their apartment was located near a library. He wouldn’t say he had made a single friend there, but he knew there was someone there who worried about the times he went in shaky and stiff in his legs. They never made mention to it, but they would let him use the library despite not being able to apply for a library card.

He read up a lot in those hours that he was alone in the library. It was the quiet in his life he needed.

_“We just got a new arrival in.” The soft voice approached Bilbo from his nook in the back of the library. “I haven’t even put it in the system. I thought you would be interested in it first.” Bilbo stared at him with a wavering look. It took him a second before his hand reached out to grasp the book. The man had learned that patience was key in dealing with Bilbo._

_“Thank you.” His voice was stronger than the man expected. He stared at the shell of a human in his library. His icy blue eyes full of concern, but Bilbo didn’t have the strength in him to look him in the eye. The book was leather bound and seemed older than Bilbo. For being a new arrival he thought it seemed ironic. This thing was probably dug up from some tomb and had managed to arrive at this little corner of the world where Bilbo held another world in his hands. The man blinked softly and walked away carefully. Bilbo opened the book and read the first page. It looked like a diary of a traveler._

Bilbo unhinged his arm from under him and stifled gasps of pain as his thumb pulsed. He had found some raggedy clothes and changed them for the ones he had when he’d run from Smaug. It just so happened that he already looked the part for a homeless man. He had found a park in the early morning after walking for what felt like hours. His legs were shaky and he crawled into a sewer drain. It dripped slightly but was mostly dry. His back ached from the ridges in the pipe. He crawled out and landed face first in the wet earth. Mud got in his nose and he gagged into the mud. His good hand lifted him up and he could feel his parched throat cry out for water. He would cry if it didn’t dehydrate him further. He got to a kneeling stance and took uneven breaths as he nearly slipped again. He stumbled up. He should keep moving. The further he can get from Smaug the better. He felt like he was running in a dream. The way he moved but it was almost in slow motion. His brain caught up with his movement and he uncontrollably bent over and dry heaved. The motion aggravated his already bruised ribcage. With nothing actually in his stomach for almost a day he was spitting out stomach fluid, the burn searing his throat. He waited until the nausea passed before he continued walking.

He should go somewhere with people. But he didn’t trust crowds. He didn’t trust anyone. The police would no doubt buy any story that Smaug grinned at them and the hospital would be no better. Charming is a characteristic of psychopaths. There weren’t a lot of people in the park. A random jogger, but they paid no mind. The irony of the situation was that at this point the invisibility of a plague to society was his saving grace. No one looked his way. His hunger gnawed at him and made him gag. The pain was almost unbearable, but as a sum of all his injuries, hunger was a very low priority in his mind, no matter how loud his stomach protested.

_Bilbo was crying when the man came around the corner. Softly and as if he didn’t realize it. He stared at the table seemingly incomprehensible to this world. The man didn’t step out from the bookshelf. He was tempted to cajole the man, but he didn’t want to spook him. He looked like he needed a minute. He waited until he could see recognition return to his eyes. He slowly stepped out from around the corner._

_“Bilbo?” The man didn’t seem to register his name. He looked cold. Not that he was shivering, but it seemed as if the air around him was void of warmth. “Bilbo…” He tried again. This time there was a twitch in his shoulder. “The library is closing soon,” He never stayed this late. Like clockwork he came in at two thirty and left at four. Every day. It was past seven. “I’m not kicking you out.” The man kept his voice soft and stayed a few feet behind Bilbo. He didn’t even dare to move. The man wasn’t dangerous, but more fragile than any suffering teen he had ever seen. The man knew something was wrong, more wrong than could be said on normal days for the damaged husk sitting at a table that he and Bilbo had dictated his. “I’m going to leave this here, I’ll be leaving at 8.” He slid the spare key between two books. “Lock up when you’re done.” The man stepped backwards until Bilbo was out of sight and took long strides to his office._

Bilbo sat for a second panting as another heave racked his body. He had walked through the park and was taking back alleys to find….somewhere. He didn’t know where he was going, but away was as best as he could describe. At this point he didn’t even fear for anyone attempting to talk or interact with him in his state. Human compassion was far and few in between. His hand held the filthy wall with a shaky grip. In another world he heard Thorin’s voice and felt his soft lips on his. The taste of alcohol on his tongue and the careful sound of deer walking through his back yard.

But in this world he heard a car pull up at the end of the alley. His lips were dry and his heart began to beat so hard against his chest his ribcage ached. He looked around, but couldn’t find somewhere to escape to easily, so he hobbled his way to a group of metal trash cans and hurriedly was taking trash out of it to push himself into it. He heard feet approaching on the once called pavement. Now from years and wear and tear it was barely road. They stopped right in front of him and he silently cried at the thought of being caught. Radio static greeted his muffled sobs and a female voice began to speak with authority.

“Station do you read?” There was a click then a near inhuman voice.

“We read you Lieutenant Benson.”

“10-52 to the back alley of Reggies on the corner of McCarran and Sixth Ave.” Bilbo whined and nearly jumped out of the can, but lifting the lid and carefully throwing himself out seemed impossible at this point.

“Roger.” The radio went quiet and the footsteps seemed to retreat back from what Bilbo could hear.

“Hey,” Her voice was soft now. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Bilbo wished he could believe that. He wanted to believe that. “Just come on out of there and we’ll get you somewhere safe, okay?” Bilbo’s parched throat seemed to close up with mucus and the stale air of the trash can wasn’t helping. He made a split second decision to push the lid off carefully and poke his head out. The woman was squatting a few feet away. She didn’t have a standard police uniform on. She was in a striped pair of brown slacks and a coat. It was long and gray and nearly was dusting the filthy ground below her. She had medium length brown hair and looked much older than he had originally expected. She gave a small smile when he looked at her, but there was something in her eyes. Fright maybe.

“There you go,” she made a move to stand up and Bilbo ducked back into the trash can. “I’m just going to help you out. You look stuck.” In truth he might have been. His muscles were tight from lack of potassium and cramped instantly. He gave himself a second before reaching a hand out. She took it without hesitation. She pulled him out as best she could and with as much ease as she could muster, but he still felt his eyes well with tears. He forced them down to try and conserve the water in his body. She got him out, but he continued to hide himself near the trash can.

“Can you tell me your name?” He was silent. Whether because his throat wouldn’t allow him to speak out of distrust to this woman. She put distance between them again. There was a terse silence and not long after it was filled with sirens. Bilbo’s eyes went wide and he attempted to stand. He moved too fast and fell, knocking his head on the metal trash can. He barely registered Lieutenant Benson talking into her radio before he felt hands on him as he drifted into darkness.

_It had been about three weeks and the man had thought for sure Bilbo wasn’t ever going to come back. He worried immensely of the ramifications of what that meant. He stood at the front desk mindlessly checking in books. He came across an old leather bound book and stared at it for a long time before putting it in a separate stack. It was just about three and he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t constantly check his watch and take sidelong glances at the front door. He began to finish up the pile and held a stack of them in his arms to be carted. On his way back for a second trip he leaned over the counter to grab a book that threatened to fall. Upon looking up he saw a lone key on the counter. His eyes trailed up and landed on the slight man standing stiffly in front of him._

_The man would be lying if he had said he wasn’t absolutely shocked. Something in Bilbo’s face made him want to reach out and consume the man in a hug. He wasn’t a very affectionate person. But something stood out in the man’s face, something akin to thankfulness and fear. It was a frightening mixture and the man was halted on what to say next. His eyes scanned Bilbo and they landed on the juncture connecting his neck to his chest. There was signs of scabbing and the very distinct marks of teeth. Bilbo didn’t seem to realize what it was that the man was staring at, for he made no move to hide the evidence. The man found it polite to look away and carefully reach out to grab the key._

_“Ada!” A child’s voice broke the silence that had thickened between the two men. The sudden appearance of his son had startled him, but habitually reached out to catch the jumping child. He lifted him up in his arms from behind the counter so he could see._

_“Legolas.” The father spoke softly to his son. The man turned to Bilbo. His entire posture completely changed. He seemed more inviting in the presence of the young child, but it was almost like he was replaced with someone who looked and acted just like Bilbo, but wasn’t. An exact copy, filled with hope and happiness. The man realized **that** was the Bilbo before the abuse. _

_“Who’s this, Ada?” The man turned to his son again._

_“This is Bilbo.” Legolas’ eyes widened and gaped at Bilbo._

_“I didn’t know you had a son, Thranduil.” It was the first words he had heard from Bilbo since the day he had lent him The Diary of a Wanderer. Thranduil merely nodded. He stumbled slightly over his words. _

_“Yes, he – Legolas – sometimes comes here after my husband goes to work instead of day care.” Thandruil finally managed. Bilbo gave a small, albeit false, smile at Legolas. The six year old knew not of false smiles, so he smiled and waved back._

_“Pleased to finally meet you, Legolas.” The outgoing boy responded in kindly, as much as a six year old could and tried to wriggle out from his father’s grasp. He ran around the end of the counter and approached Bilbo._

_“Can I show you something?” Bilbo didn’t hesitate._

_“Of course.” Legolas grabbed Bilbo’s hand and led him off to the children’s section of the library. Thandruil didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until they had disappeared and his sons voice was a faint echo in the quiet of the library._

Bilbo woke up in a rush and his heart was in a panic. His good hand was cuffed to the side of the bed and a heart monitor somewhere was beeping loudly. He didn’t realize it was his until nurses came swarming in and began to try and soothe him. He would have screamed, but his throat felt as if the entire ocean had dumped it’s sand contents into his esophagus. What came out was something resembling a screech from nails on a chalk board. Full of air and high pitched. He could taste blood at the back of his throat. Finally a face he recognized flashed before his vision and he settled down. Lieutenant Benson was beside him undoing the restraint on his wrist. She took a step back and he finally stilled. She looked at him with such care. He was taking deep breaths to keep from gagging.

“Here.” She handed him a cup, he presumed was filled with water. He didn’t even breath as he swallowed the entire cup down. He fell back on the bed. The Lieutenant stared at him carefully. In the years he had been with Smaug he had seen so many people and so many looks, but very few made him tear up and swallow hard at the thought of genuine care.

“Hey, Bilbo. Remember me?” Bilbo nodded. “Good, can you tell me how you ended up hiding in that alley way?” Bilbo didn’t want to. He just wanted to be home. He wanted to be away from Smaug. He wanted Thorin. Most of all.

“Thorin.” His voice sounded foreign. Almost as if he was experiencing an out of body situation. Staring down at himself. Bruised and battered an near unrecognizable.

“We contacted the Erebor police department. They’re sending someone right away.” She sat down in the chair next to his bed. “Who’s Thorin? Did he hurt you?” Bilbo coughed for he couldn’t openly object. Talking was going to be a minimum at the moment. He shook his head as hard as he could. “Okay, alright. Can you tell me who did?” Bilbo held up his hand and motioned his hand like he was writing. Benson handed him a pen and pad of paper. Although he wasn’t left handed he did his best to try and make the name eligible. He handed them back to her and she read it with a hardened face. “I’m going to be right back, okay?” He looked away towards the window. He could see the top branches of some trees and suspected he was a few levels up. He watched as the clouds danced across the sky and before long he heard Benson return and sit next to him.

“I was just informed that the Erebor police department will be here in about an hour. A protective detail will be outside the door until they get here.” She spoke slowly as if he wasn’t quite listening. In truth he wasn’t.

“That won’t be necessary.” Bilbo’s head snapped to the door. He remembered hearing that in states of extreme dehydration the person could hallucinate. He didn’t think hallucinations were all that real, but seeing Thorin standing in the doorway made his entire resolve crumble. He had been abused enough by Smaug and now by his own brain. Benson stood up and looked at the door though. Bilbo began to wonder.

“Sir,” Benson looked ready to forcible remove Thorin from the room. Bilbo was sobbing.

“Thorin.” His alien voice stopped any questioning that Benson may have had. Thorin looked at the Lieutenant before he strode over and lay his hand on Bilbo’s forehead. He brushed the filthy hair back and noticed the cuts and scrapes under all the dirt.

“Bilbo.” Thorin’s voice was soft. Bilbo barely registered Benson leaving the room. “You’re alive.” At that moment Bilbo realized that being alive was in fact Thorin’s biggest concern. Not where, but if. It broke Bilbo’s heart. They just sat in silence for a moment. Bilbo’s good hand holding Thorin’s and Thorin’s other hand cradling Bilbo’s face. For the first time in what felt like years, Bilbo fell asleep safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly it’s four o clock in the morning because since I started my new job I can’t sleep during the night anymore, but anyways I really do feel bad when I want to give more chapters, but life just punches any creativity I have in the face and abuses it. (Cringe) Sorry. Secondly after a six month stint of being the ONLY night shift worker I can finally afford more than one day off that may or may not be insured, so I plan on getting back into the swing of things. Maybe even be consistent in my updates (sings Hallelujah sarcastically). Not hoping for a miracle or anything although that sounds like one. Thirdly I’ll see about even lengthening my chapters or keeping them shorter and just updating regularly. Up to you guys. Input it beneficial in my decision making when you guys constantly kudoing and commenting keeps me going. So thanks guys really. Deep down man. Heres to an early New Year’s Resolution. (Side note that I want all of you to know for some reason. I wrote this entire chapter while listening to Caramelldansen. If you have lived under a rock for fifteen years then this isn't funny to you, but to me it just lets you know that I believe in setting horribly tragic things to funnily ironic tones or moods. Example if i made a horror movie it would be almost as well lit as the Shining and would probably have the Macarena playing softly in the room where theyre getting murdered. Graphicly. There's something disturbing about the tone of something not fitting the context.) Spot the other fandom I slipped in there and I will start sobbing because I love all my babies in all my fandoms.


	12. Nowhere Fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start this with if you don't have a Netflix GET ONE FOR DECEMBER 22. (This advertisement it not promoted by Netflix. I am not getting paid to say this.) Bright is coming out on December 22 and this is probably the one place where if you want more Tolkien but don't want your heart to be broken GO WATCH BRIGHT. I literally am so pumped. To make it simply LOTR Modern AU Feat. Will Smith. Get yourself some Netflix and hell by the soundtrack too because it's banging, but I'm just a sucker for some Bastille. Seriously if you haven't heard about this or seen any scenes please go check it out. I'll even let ya'll have my Netflix account info to let you guys watch it. (I'm mad that it's not a series but still absolutely ready for this movie.)  
> Okay back to the story at hand which although Bilbo is found he still has quite a way to go before he's recovered.  
> Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, but with that being said I can do research and get a mostly accurate story from the research and just general knowledge I have of medical conditions.  
> Trigger Warnings:  
> Mentions of Abuse (Medical)

Thorin

After Bilbo fell asleep, Thorin stayed by his side until Dwalin got here. He spoke with Lieutenant Benson briefly, although his mind was solely focused on Bilbo and not taking him out of his sight. It was nearly sundown now and Thorin hadn’t moved more than an inch. There was still a protective detail provided by the SVU unit of Moria, but Dwalin had arrived and offered to relieve the uni. It also gave Dwalin a reason to speak extendedly to Thorin. It was like pulling teeth, but he at least provided more than a head nod and unintelligible grunts. Honestly Dwalin couldn’t reproach him because he too was infamous for doing the same, regardless of nearly losing the love of his life.

“He’s got a bad infection, Thorin.” Thorin heard him with half a heart. He watched as Bilbo was basically swimming in sweat and moved fitfully. He would occasionally groan, but wouldn’t wake up. “They think it might be severe sepsis.” Bilbo’s face was wrought in pain. “It’s a fifty fifty shot.” Thorin didn’t care. Bilbo was a fighter. He was here. He would survive. He survived Smaug. Thorin would be damned if he didn’t survive this. “He’s going to stay here until morning, to see if his condition is stable enough for transport, then he will be taken back to Erebor General, so he is in our jurisdiction.” Dwalin leaned on the door jamb. He had his arms crossed and if that wasn’t threatening enough to frighten some of the patients away then Smaug would be foolish to show up here. “Moria Police department will continue their investigation here, but we have one in Erebor that needs to be attended to.” Thorin agreed to that. Here they had maybe a domestic violence case, but in Erebor if Smaug was found and detained he would be charged with kidnapping. A thought crossed Thorin’s mind as much as he willed to stop it. It steamrolled him and made him take a shaky breath. If Bilbo didn’t make it, then a murder charge would be added. Thorin couldn’t think that way. He refused to give in when Bilbo was fighting so desperately in front of him.

“Bilbo…” Was all Thorin could muster. The lack of care for himself these last few days have worn on him and arguably a hospital bed should be provided for him too. He waived off any medical care that his battered soul may have needed. Bilbo took a deep breath and turned his head towards Thorin. His eyes opened for half a second. A small smile lingering on his lips.

It was gone in a second when his eyes rolled back in his head and he began to violently convulse. Thorin jumped up as Bilbo’s heart monitor began to scream in the otherwise quiet room.

“Nurse!” Before Thorin could think of what to do, Dwalin was yelling through the halls. In seconds a rush of doctors and nurses came flooding into the room. Thorin stared in shock at Bilbo uncontrollably shaking on the bed. Someone was talking to him, but he stared hopelessly at Bilbo. Finally arms were around him and kicked him into action.

“Bilbo!” Thorin yelled over the sound of doctor jargon and nurses telling him he had to leave. Dwalin had his arms around him, lifting him up by his armpits. Thorin could feel the physical strength it took Dwalin to drag him back out of the room, while he fought with Dwalin and himself. He wanted to help Bilbo, but he wouldn’t get help unless the doctor’s could get their hands on him. “Bilbo.” Thorin’s voice broke as he panted from the strain that sleep deprivation and fighting with Dwalin had brought on him. He hadn’t realized that Dwalin was talking in his ear until he felt his breath on his neck.

“Let them do their job, you damned fool.” His gruff voice was strained from holding onto Thorin. His heart raced in his chest and he stared hopelessly through the window. His face pale and breathing ragged. He could barely see Bilbo with all the doctors and nurses around him. Thorin went limp in Dwalin’s arms. He had silent tears falling down his cheeks. “Damn it!” Dwalin may be big, but Thorin wasn’t small. The cop was basically carrying Thorin by his chest at this point, his arms wrapped around him like in the Heimlich maneuver. He sobbed as a nurse looked at him sympathetically and shut the blinds and the door. The strain in Dwalin’s arms must have been too much because Dwalin let him go and Thorin barely registered the pain in his knees from hitting the ground so abruptly.

“Bilbo.” Thorin whispered. He thought for a second his heart stopped when Bilbo’s monitor stopped blaring.

xXx

It was about four hours later and Bilbo had stabilized. They said that the dehydration had caused his seizure, but they gave him a CT scan to check for any clots in the brain. The entire thing made Thorin nervous. For a second a doubt was in his mind, but he nearly punched himself for even thinking it. Bilbo would survive. He had to. Thorin clutched the edges of the chair so tightly his knuckles hurt from the force. Dwalin urged him to sleep, but he couldn’t find it in himself to take his eyes off of Bilbo. The last time he did it got them in this situation. The night had settled over the hospital and there was hardly a soul around. A few nurses were walking the halls checking on patients, but almost no other sound could be heard. A uni replaced Dwalin since he hadn’t slept since he got the call from Thorin nearly two days earlier. Thorin had been here in nearly four hours, making the six hour trip laughable. But when he had gotten hear he couldn’t think where to look for Bilbo first. He went to all of the police stations without a single report. He then went to the hospitals and still no sign of him. At one point he was searching streets looking for him.

He had a police scanner in his vehicle and listened to that day and night while he scoured the roads and alley ways for Bilbo. Meanwhile in the back of his mind he kept an eye out for Smaug as well. He had his registered firearm at his side, a precaution Dwalin had instilled in him after so many years. While Thorin thought he would never want to look at a gun again after all his years in the service. Dwalin had a way of convincing him. Sometimes it was for the better, sometimes it got him in situations he’d rather not repeat to Bilbo, mainly out of embarrassment.

Dis had called while he was in Moria sick out her mind with worry. He felt some remorse for not letting her know that he would be leaving so abruptly without the slightest indication of where or why. He spoke to his nephews for a second which was a surprising ease he hadn’t realized he agonized over. At least in this situation his nephews and sister were safe. They were invisible to the eye of Smaug. It provided Thorin with some comfort. Dis knew about him taking care of Bilbo and mysteriously was able to find babysitters while Bilbo had stayed with him. Thorin told her that the boys weren’t a burden, but she said something about the boys needed more outside experience besides Thorin and Dis. Dis was never the best liar. He let it drop and hoped he could see his nephews soon. Hopefully meet Bilbo. He thought that Bilbo would definitely agree. He sometimes saw Bilbo gazing longingly at pictures of his nephews, the few he had in the house. He wondered if another life Bilbo would have children of his own. Thorin wondered the same for himself sometime.

Ever since his outing he didn’t think about that possibility all that much. It was far and few in between, what with his irregular work schedule and his sexual orientation to begin with. Erebor was more progressive than most, but they were still apprehensive to give a single veteran the care of a child. Maybe in a few years Bilbo would think about adopting with him. Thorin ran a hand through his hair as he dragged that train of thought from his mind. He doubted Bilbo wanted to stay with him after everything. Maybe travel the world. Thorin would travel. If Bilbo would have him, he would travel to the edge of the world with him. The thought of forcing himself with Bilbo when he didn’t want him made him no better than Smaug, but the thought of letting go of Bilbo also made his heart break. The idea left a hollow feeling in his chest and he could feel himself becoming the man he was after the war. The distant and cold man that wondered the house and was completely unrecognizable to his family. Thankfully Dis had Fili and that changed him for the better. The idea that there was more to life then the lives he had taken was lost to him before he looked into Fili’s golden eyes and nearly full head of blonde hair. He looked so much like his father that Thorin wondered how such a dark brood such as Dis could produce this ball of light. Then Kili came around and Thorin loved both of them as if they were his own. After the death of their father that only grew. Much to Dis’ chagrin.

Thorin heard a soft knock that pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked behind him and a nurse was standing with a tray. He looked at her and then at Bilbo.

“He’s stable,” She smiled softly. “This is for you.” She walked into the large room full of thoughts and sickness. It was a large cup of hot coffee and some food from the cafeteria. “There wasn’t much when I went down there, but I thought you might be hungry.” Thorin grabbed the bed tray from her and thanked her. It was some pudding and what looked like toaster waffles. She even gave him a side of syrup and butter. He stared at the food with some distaste, but he appeased her because she didn’t look like she was going to leave unless he took a bite of something. She was tall with red hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to glow in the dimly lit room. She had a grace about her that made Thorin think she might have been some sort of faerie in another life. The way she barely made noise when she stepped. Light on her feet. Thorin took a sip of his coffee, it wasn’t great but the caffeine would do him some good.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” It was a concern Thorin hadn’t voiced until her soft eyes looked at him in the dark. Sympathy completely plastered on her face. She looked at Bilbo. He was calm now, but he hadn’t woken up since his seizure. Without looking at Thorin she responded softly,

“Humans are miraculous things,” She smiled, all teeth and care. “They beat all odds at the darkest of times.” It wasn’t really an answer but it was an answer Thorin didn’t realized he wanted. The nurse patted his shoulder and walked out of the room, stating that she would be at the nurse’s station of he needed anything. He gave a non committal noise and took a small bite of the waffle forgoing silverware –plastic ware – and the condiments entirely to just get something in his stomach. He stared at the stars through the branches of the tree. He never called himself a religious man, but in that moment if someone was watching then he damn well begged that they wouldn’t let this fragile man get taken so unfairly from this world. The stars only twinkled in response to his prayer.

xXx

Somewhere in the dark a car pulled up. The man stepped out looking at the great expanse of the hospital. The stars that shine down on Thorin also glinted off of the man’s smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to start off with THANK YOU THANK YOU for all the love on this story and I will try and give a christmas present to all of my kudoers and comments and followers of this story and try and get two or more updates a week. (I think I can do it this time)  
> If all ya'll said SVU you win my undying love of Olivia Benson as my second mother. (I was born the year before it came out and have been a follower since then. Fangirl of the education of sexual assault since the womb.) @WikdSushi I actually thought I couldn't love anyone else partnered with Olivia, but I have been proven wrong and Nick is my baby, so no Stabler, sorry. Also I rewrote this because I was going to go one way but it felt forced so sadly that is the last of the SVU family you’ll see.(But honestly an SVU AU has been running through my mind since honestly I have an addiction to binge watching shows with over 100 episodes.) Also a lot of these chapters will have the sound track of Eminem's new album and the soundtrack Album for Bright and unless you have any predispositions to either of them I would suggest checking them out. (Specifically Home, Nowhere Fast, River, Broken People, World Gone Mad, Like Home, Crown, and Walk on Water) (Also warning you I might do another angst story based on River by Eminem and Ed Sheeran. Yeah you read that right.) I bet you're sick of these parentheses so I'll shut up.


	13. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh look at all these updates. It's almost like I'm fulfilling my promise. *shocked gasps* We'll see how long it lasts. So Bilbo's POV is kind of like a flash back, but more of the brain's misfire during the seizure so it's simultaneously present and past. So I'm not doing italicization (I think it just sometimes gets too confusing for the reader).   
> Warnings:   
> Injury  
> Swearing  
> Vulgar language  
> Mentions of rape  
> Mentions of/and abuse (Seriously if you love our little fluff I would skip any mention of Smaug until POV change)  
> Forced starvation

Bilbo

His sleep was fitful at best. Nothing satisfying about having his eyes closed. The closest he got to a decent sleep was when he didn’t have any dreams and he felt like he was falling through a void for hours unable to properly adjust to time or even attempting to wake up. The few times he did he saw Thorin next to him with worried cloaked around him as if it was the only thing keeping him warm in the late spring. It wrapped around his shoulders until the weight seemed oppressively so. Bilbo didn’t usually stay awake long enough to do more than shovel the tasteless food into his mouth with some apprehension.

He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he remembered watching Thorin, attempting to make some quip, but then his vision went fuzzy at the edges, like he stood up to fast before finally going black and he lost consciousness. Instead he was laying on the bedroom floor of the house he shared with Smaug. He heard the shower running and he could feel pain in his legs and his breath was ragged. He had a sore spot on the back of his head and he could barely find the strength in him to get up. He wanted to close his eyes, but the facing his heart was doing in his ears made that a fleeting thought. He couldn’t remember what happened exactly, but he did know that it had upset Smaug.

He looked around on his stomach on the floor of the bedroom. He blinked and there seemed to be static behind his eyes, like an old VHS player that had run out of tape. When he opened his eyes again he was in the kitchen and had a spatula in his hand. He scraped mindlessly at the eggs in the pan. The smelt like they had burnt. He seemed to focus again and took the eggs off of the fire, but it was too late. Smaug came up behind him and had his hands on Bilbo’s wrists. He made him drop the eggs with the force of the grip on his wrist and the hot pan clattered beside them spilling the burnt eggs. The fire was still on and Bilbo was pressed between the oven and Smaug. He wasn’t sure which one he feared more. The open flame or the strength in Smaug’s tense muscles.

Smaug growled something in his ear his brain only heard more of that static. He could feel Smaug’s heated breath on his neck and the heat of the fire in front of him. Smaug’s breath making him sweat and begin to shake. Smaug still had Bilbo’s wrists in his hands. He began to move one towards Bilbo’s face. More static in place of any actual words filled his ears. But between the sound of his heart and the static he couldn’t hear much more. Smaug moved his hand again and he could start to feel the roar of the fire prickling his skin.

He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he lie on the kitchen floor, his hand blistered and hissing in his ears. He held it close to his hand and the smell of burnt eggs and flesh filled his nostrils. He nearly gagged. He got up to his knees and began to clean up the eggs into the pan with one hand. His stomach growled and for a moment he looked at the eggs longingly. He could hear foot steps behind him and he flinched with each step, his hand searing in pain as the steps continued closer. He felt someone standing behind him and he cowered on the floor, gripping the pan impossibly took tight as he waited in anguish.

A gentle hand set on his shoulder, but he still couldn’t stop the shaking that ensued. He didn’t look up as tears spilled from his eyes. He blinked for a second and after the static cleared he was standing in a kitchen. Not Smaug’s but somehow it was more familiar. More like a home then he had with Smaug. He looked out the window at the sink and saw a man in the backyard. There were two faceless children running around him and his long hair dancing around him as he chased after the boys. The man managed to get his hands on one of the boys and they fell onto the grass laughing, although he couldn’t be sure as the static continuously filled his ears. The other one jumped on top and they began to dog pile the man. Bilbo felt a sense of relief in the entire situation. The scenario presenting a calm feeling wash over him. He had a small smile on his face when he looked down at his hands in the soapy sink. He pulled them out and reeled.

The static buffered in and out and his hands went from soaked in suds to the blistering and bloodied hands from before. Pain in his head too much. He thought he passed out for a moment before small hands were tugging on his un-tucked shirt. He looked down and two boys were tugging on his Oxford, his hands back to suds and covered to his forearms in soap where the edge of his shirt sleeves cut off. Bilbo rinsed his hands and picked up the littlest boy, his smile back on his face and walked into the backyard where the man had grass stains on his socks and elbows. There were small streaks of gray in the man’s hair and Bilbo reached out to brush them back.

Before his hand could touch the hair at the man’s temple he blinked and the static became impossibly loud, causing him to fall to the ground and his vision went entirely black before the static ceased.

Thorin

They had packed Bilbo into the back of the ambulance. Dwalin the lead car and another police car behind the ambulance, as courtesy of the MPD. Thorin couldn’t ride with Bilbo as they drove back to Erebor. They had to make sure they had the proper staff in the ambulance while they did the transport. He understood, but he still drove behind the MPD cruiser with white knuckles and a racing heart. They had been driving for about three hours now and were about half way out. They left early in the morning. Dawn had barely broke when Bilbo’s sleeping body was settled into the back of the ambulance. Thorin wanted him home, but if condition got any worse he wouldn’t be able to take him home for a few weeks.

Thorin would have to get a bed assigned to him at the hospital if Bilbo had to stay longer if his body didn’t respond to the sepsis treatments. He wouldn’t leave his side with all the force of the Ereborian army.

Suddenly the brake lights of the ambulance and the cruiser flashed in front of him and he started to panic. He saw Dwalin’s vehicle pull into a truck stop and everyone followed. Once they all parked Thorin jumped out of the car, not particularly bothered with shutting the door.

“What’s wrong?” He asked the Moria police officer.

“They com’d over the radio that Bilbo was awake and asking for you, so we decided to take a pit stop.” Thorin was only slightly relieved. The back doors to the ambulance swung open and Thorin could tell Bilbo was having a hard time with the ambulance. The doctor and nurse stepped out and let Thorin climb in. Once Bilbo saw Thorin he eased into his bed.

“Thorin…” His voice was rasped and he was still sweating from fever. He looked pale and his usually golden curls were sticking to his forehead. His wounds started to scab over, but they were no less angry. Another bout of rage coursed through Thorin at the thought of how Smaug continued to torture Bilbo’s soul and body.

“Hey,” Thorin’s voice was soft and he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He sat uncomfortably on the bench next to Bilbo.

“Where am I?” He coughed and wheezed for a second before looking at Thorin again. Thorin had seen many a man in anguish after his years in the service. But the look on Bilbo’s face broke his heart.

“You were in Moria, in a hospital. We are transporting you to a hospital in Erebor, so you can be under constant watch by the police.” Bilbo seemed uneasy with the idea and his hand began to shake slightly. He moved slightly up, as if to reach out and Thorin grabbed his hand instead. Bilbo didn’t stop shaking, but he could feel his pulse begin to calm under his palm.

“Can you ride with me?” Thorin shook his head sadly. His hair falling in his eyes, but it didn’t stop the regret they showed. Bilbo seemed to realize that it was a wasted question, but he had hoped that it might be fulfilled.

“I’ll be with you when we get to the hospital. And once you’re better they’ll release you into my care and with the weather warming up we can start to work on the garden in the back.” His voice was full of hope. He didn’t doubt that Bilbo would survive this. He wouldn’t let himself doubt. Towards the end of his speech Bilbo’s eyes began to droop and it seemed Thorin was losing him to sleep. “We’ll plant green beans across the fence. And grumble about the deer eating them all the time.” Bilbo was almost asleep, but Thorin kept talking. He wanted Bilbo to know he was still here. Any comfort he could give, he would. It was a small price to pay in the end. “And the rabbits, they’re worse in the summer, but it’s always nice to see the little ones.” His voice almost broke, but he held onto his strength. Once he was sure Bilbo was asleep, he set his hand back on the bad and brushed at the blankets for a second, not wanting to leave the man alone.

“It’s getting hot out here,” Dwalin grumbled. He had a bottle of water in one hand and was chewing on a jerky stick in the other. Dwalin handed Thorin the bottle of water as Thorin climbed out of the back of the ambulance. If Dwalin saw anything in the back of the ambulance he didn’t remark on it. He averted his eyes to Thorin’s though, but otherwise was his gruff self.

“Thank you.” Thorin hadn’t realized he was parched until he felt the cool water on his tongue. He swallowed down almost half of the bottle before he took a gasp of air. Dwalin was right, it was starting to get warm outside and the need for his jacket was almost unnecessary. Summer was on the rise and he could feel it in the air. After everyone had had their snack and beverages they all piled back into their respectable vehicles. They started out on the road again. They were halfway to Erebor and Thorin hadn’t been this anxious to get home in a while.

After a few minutes of driving, Thorin noticed someone tailing him very closely. He pulled his phone from the dashboard and shot Dwalin a text.

_Got a tailer._

Thorin kept his phone in the cupholder to see the response.

_Passing lane in half mile._

Thorin had a bad feeling in his gut though. This seemed more than just an impatient driver. Thorin thought he recognized the vehicle, but he couldn’t see the driver. Finally they reached the passing lane and Dwalin led them into the right lane. Thorin tried to look at the driver of the vehicle behind him that was turning into the left lane and speeding up, but they had tinted windows. They passed Thorin and was nose to nose with the MPD cruiser. Thorin thought he saw the guy roll his passenger window down when he heard the sound of gunshots.

The cruiser in front of him swerved and Thorin barely turned the wheel to avoid the vehicle in front of him. They got back onto the road after briefly diverging into the shoulder. The car next to them fired a few more times before turning sharply to cut between the ambulance and the cruiser. They tipped the cruiser’s rail bar, but the officer held firm behind the ambulance. Thorin was dialing Dwalin before he knew what to do to help the officer in front of him. Before Dwalin could ask what was wrong Thorin was yelling,

“Shooter in the car behind you!” He heard Dwalin swear and get on his radio. He demanded back up and then radioed to the ambulance to keep going to Erebor. Dwalin merged in front of the car with the shooter, letting the ambulance turn on their lights and sirens and speed off in front of them. This seemed to alarm the driver who was now packed in with Thorin moving behind him, Dwalin in front of him, and the Morian officer on his side. Dwalin slowed to try and get the driver to stop, both the cruiser’s lights and sirens on now. Thorin could see the ambulance hurrying through traffic as people pulled over for them. He prayed the Bilbo would be alright.

“Cage him.” Dwalin spoke into his radio and to Thorin. The driver didn’t seem to mind though as he nearly hit a car that was in oncoming traffic and he switched lanes. Horns blared as the other vehicle turned to the shoulder and Thorin, Dwalin, and the other cruiser sped after the vehicle. Thorin had a horrible feeling about how this would end. He had to make sure that Bilbo was safe and stopping this vehicle was the most logical way. After a few miles of driving Thorin saw lights in his rearview mirror. They didn’t seem intent on pulling him over. Dwalin seemed to catch up to the driver and pushed on the rear end of the other car. After a bit of swerving from the driver the car tilted to the right and went off into the shoulder. Thorin pulled over his beamer a little ways back from where the car stopped.

The police surrounded the car. All of the officers jumped out with guns drawn. Thorin saw that the one helping escort Bilbo was bleeding from his shoulder. The officers were yelling for the driver to get out of the car and put their hands up. The driver didn’t seem to want to listen as he was shooting out the open passenger window. The officers began to fire back and Thorin ducked down into his seat. The driver got out of the car finally when one of the officers went down and Thorin only saw red in his vision.

Smaug stood in the middle, surrounded by cops, all armed and more to arrive. He had his gun pointed at Dwalin. Dwalin didn’t waver. For what felt like centuries they stood facing off. Officers yelling at Smaug to drop the gun. Once more police began to show up Smaug seemed to calculate something in his head as his demeanor changed and he put the gun down on the ground and got on his knees with his hands behind his head. While he got down, he stared at Thorin with open amusement. Thorin would have ignored the officers, had more not arrived and beat Smaug to a pulp. His rage brimming and his eye sight going dark as he held onto his restraint. An ambulance showed up a little while later after Smaug was in cuffs and piled into the back of Dwalin’s car. He had a sick smirk on his face as he looked at Thorin one more time before ducking into the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I have to remind myself that this has a happy ending, but I have always been astonishingly good at writing tragedy. Like it's written in my own DNA


	14. Need Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry belated Holiday in which you celebrate! And a Happy New Year to everyone who wants this year to end (I'm looking at you Trump and Brexit and basically every other bad long term dilemma the current generation has to contend with for the next 4-40 years)  
> So remember how I said I WASN'T going to bring back the SVU cast...I lied...I'm sorry. I'm planning on doing a court hearing before all's well that end's well and I'm a damn sucker for a man in suspenders @RafaelBarba. Also I find the most suspenseful cases to be the ones where the bad guy says they can defend themselves better than their attorney....so that's definitely something Smaug would do. I am also warning you that I have extensive knowledge of AMERICAN legal system so that's what I'll be using as my basis...it shouldn't be too...detailed, but if anyone has any questions I can clear them up right away. (Also at what point should I tag the SVU fandom in this fic? I probably won't cause this isn't a crossover by any means.)  
> Warnings:  
> Vulgar language  
> Mentions of Abuse - Past and Potential  
> Mentions of Rape - Past and Potential  
> Over All Scummy Human Being

Bilbo awoke in a start at the silence that surrounded him. He had sweat dripping from his eyes and he looked around anxiously as his body fought mentally and physically an infection that plagued him. His mouth was dry and he could barely breath with the rattling in his chest. A nurse popped in and offered him some water. He drank it down greedily. She was saying something but the blood rushing in his ears covered any sound that might have filled the small room. It was nothing like the one he was in before and he thought he was back in Erebor. His shutters were closed, so he couldn’t look around and distinguish his surroundings let alone what time it was.

His heart was racing as he noticed he and the nurse were the only ones in the room. She checked his IV and tutted something under her breath as she refilled it. He was panting with fever and pain. His body felt as if he was on fire and he couldn’t find it in himself to sleep. He wanted to see Thorin. He didn’t know what it was that drew him to the man. Obligation for taking care of him or genuine care for his company. His sense of judgment about men with slight romantic interest him was tainted at best and required external examination from someone besides himself. He couldn’t be trusted to find a good compatibility for his own heart.

Bilbo wanted to do something, but he could only lay in bed and shake. His misery and sweat his only company. The nurse flitted around doing various things, but he couldn’t focus on a single detail. He longed to feel Thorin’s smooth hand in his. It had little calluses from holding paint brushes and guns alike. The perfect combination of lover and fighter.

_The sun was warm on his back. It was just strong enough to pierce the thin curtains in Thorin’s drawing room. He had a book in his hand and was dividing his time between reading and watching Thorin paint. He soon learned that Thorin sometimes did commissions for people for various things. Grand show cases in their luxurious houses, funerals, weddings, family portraits, and the like. There was this ease that came over Thorin when he painted._

_His age did nothing to diminish his face as it did with so many people Thorin’s age. His gray streaks were more of an accomplishment than anything. The paint brush dragged across the canvas. The blend of greens and blues blended as he used easy strokes to bring out the best of both colors. He got a commission from the Conservation of Natural Parks and Wildlife and he was doing a piece for the grand opening of their new head quarters. The painting was half done, but Bilbo had no doubt it would stun the entirety of the committee. He lost focus in his book as his eyes lingered more so on the other master piece in the room. Thankfully Thorin’s back was too him to allow the natural light to give the best impression of the painting. His eyes lingered on his shoulders that no doubt had carried him more times than was healthy for a man in his condition. Travelling down he followed the curve of his figure. No doubt not what it was in the military, but definitely not unfit. He had a small curve around his painting pants that gave Bilbo the impression he lived with some comforts after his service._

_Bilbo looked down at his own figure and noted that under his loose slacks his hip bones still stuck out like mountain ridges underneath his skin. His stomach had filled in, but it was nothing that he used to know. Before Smaug he prided himself in his cooking craft and his body showed it. He wouldn’t have called himself fat, but he definitely wasn’t as chiseled as Thorin was. In the small hours of the morning he had sometimes caught Thorin doing morning work outs in one of the spare rooms, he unabashedly lingered, but never long enough for Thorin to know. He typically left before he got too engrossed and made a brasher move than he himself was known for._

_“A penny for your thoughts?” Thorin’s deep rumble took him out of his nostalgic musings. Bilbo picked up his book again and pretended to be interested in the next page. Without reading what was on the previous page he turned it and Thorin turned around again. Whether he was used to Bilbo’s silence or hid his discontent at the situation very well. After their trip to the hills he had fallen back into his silence. It was less about the conditioning he had endured with Smaug, and more to do with his interest in Thorin and how he acts without prompting from Bilbo, not that Smaug’s abuse did harbor a huge milestone for Bilbo, it just brought him less and less fear the longer he was with Thorin._

_Bilbo put his book down and walked his way into the kitchen. He kept one ear behind him to listen for Thorin to follow. Sometimes he did, other times he was content to let Bilbo wander as he pleased. It seemed now was one of those times. Bilbo’s stomach growled and he gathered up a few ingredients for the start of a late winter lunch._

xXx

Bilbo’s shaking had reduced to only his hands and occasional twitch in his muscles. He no doubt it was because of the drugs and not because he was getting any better. Minus the miniscule movements he felt no better than he did wandering the alley ways of Moria. He was given hardly a substantial meal of pudding and water. His only source of nutrition coming from the needle in his arm. The nurse opened the blinds as the sun went down and he saw the sun setting on the sky line of Erebor. It wasn’t the nature that he was used to, but as the sun blotted out the hard lines of the buildings he was reminded of the mountain of old, full of mining lights and little bustling shapes. Nothing much has changed it seemed. He knew enough of Erebor’s past to know that their determination was the drive that made this city one of the most profitable next to Minas Tirith and Rivendell.

Bilbo watched as the sun set and stars filled the void of darkness. Exhaustion crept at him like a snake, coiling it’s body around his heart and mind making his eyes heavy. His eyes fluttered several times and his head bobbed against the pillow as he fought sleep. He wanted to see Thorin once more before he fell into the void of sleep, but he could barely look out the window with more than strained eyes and a disinterested gaze. He fell asleep thinking of far off places, dragons, and small men with a striking resemblance to the one he longed to see.

Dwalin

“Throw him in the holding cell.” Dwalin snapped at his partner as he shoved Smaug forward so hard even the composed man stumbled. Bifur grabbed the man and dragged him to the holding cell. Sadly it wasn’t sound proof and wasn’t far from where Dwalin’s desk was.

“I see you have a fondness for the small ones.” Smaug cat called from the cell. Straight to the point it seemed. Dwalin had driven twelve hours in two days and he was not what he would call himself a calm man at his finest hour. Bifur slammed the door behind him and gave his partner a wary glance. He was mute but he was by no means deaf. It worked out well that Dwalin was the loudest one on his squad. Dwalin signed to Bifur about a long night as he started up the paperwork. Bifur offered him a look of sympathy.

 ** _Is that the guy who’s been after Thorin’s fella?_** Dwalin nodded as he watched Bifur’s signs carefully. He signed back.

 ** _Crazy son of a bitch._** Bifur shot the man a glare through the cell bars and set his jacket on his chair after previously putting it on before Dwalin walked in with Smaug. Bifur sat down and began on some backed up paperwork.

“You don’t have to stay.” Bifur shrugged and hunched his shoulders as he bent over his desk. Dwalin sighed and got back to work on the report.

“What was his name?” Smaug taunted through the squad room. At this time of night there was no one around. “That little thing, wrapped around your cock.” Dwalin gritted his teeth, but otherwise said nothing. “Not my type, but maybe if I didn’t have my dear Bilbo,” Dwalin squeezed hard on the pen in his hand. “An attempt would be made at – oh yes I remember now – Ori.” Smaug made a contented noise. Dwalin didn’t stand up, but he stopped writing and he could feel Bifur’s gaze on him.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Dwalin called. “I would suggest taking that advise.” Bifur kept an eyebrow cocked as he watched Dwalin from across his desk.

“I wonder if he would bend like Bilbo does?” Smaug’s musings were much louder now. “I wonder if I could get him on his knees without so much…persuasion as it took Bilbo.” Dwalin was taught in his anger management classes that if he found an outlet for his anger it wouldn’t consume him and build up. He also thought a majority of that class was bullshit that the commissioner tried to use as a leash. “See how his tight little ass was overwhelmed with me.” His sneer could be felt on Dwalin’s back. “Hypothetically that is.” Dwalin ran his tongue over his teeth and Bifur took in the entire scene. “And while I’m speaking hypothetically, Bilbo got all he deserves and Ori is going to get what a real man can give him.” Had Dwalin had a pencil in his hands it would be a fine dust in his hands as his hands clenched harder and his resolve to ignore Smaug broke.

Bilbo was a ghost when Dwalin had met him and only with Thorin’s help did he only now resemble a tangible human being instead of some ethereal wisp that wandered the world. Dwalin stood up too fast for Bifur to grab him and he walked to the holding cell.

“Oh does the big man have something to prove to me?” Smaug backed up from the bars, but not far enough that Dwalin couldn’t reach him. It seemed he did it on purpose. “Think you can protect that little cum slut like you think you can protect Bilbo.” Dwalin reached through the bars and pulled excessively hard on Smaug so when he heard him hit the bars he could hear them clank against his ribs. Smaug had humor and malice in his eyes. He was laughing when Dwalin tightened his grip on Smaug’s chest. “I’ll get him mewling and begging for more like I had Bilbo doing.”

“I’d suggest you shut the fuck up before you do some begging of your own.” Dwalin soon felt hands on his shoulders trying to pull him back. He shrugged them off. Bifur made a noise of disapproval and pulled Dwalin by the arm pits off of Smaug. Not before he got a good hold on Smaug’s throat and squeezed as hard as he could, just to silence those words escaping Smaug’s mouth. Smaug coughed and gagged at the force, but didn’t pass out. He dropped to the ground and tried clearing his throat, but the damage was done. He might not have done any permanent damage, but he would have a harder time speaking now. Bifur got him sitting back down and had a disapproving look on his face.

 ** _Go home._** He signed sharply. He wanted Dwalin to know he meant no joke. Dwalin rubbed his face and got up grabbing his jacket. As he was walking out a raspy voice called out to him,

“You think Bilbo stayed out of fear? He enjoyed it.” Dwalin stormed out of the squad room before he seriously injured Smaug.

If he went home and kissed Ori within an inch of his lungs giving out and making love to him as if either of them only had one last time to do so then that had nothing to do with the words that lingered from Smaug’s taunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to get this out before the new year as a new years gift, but of course two days off is to hard to ask when tourists come by for a New Years Party at an otherwise run of the mill city. It's Reno, not even Vegas. As someone who lives here, don't come here. Check out the song Need Me by Eminem ft P!nk. It's very passionate (as is all of his album) Anyways HAPPY NEW YEAR AND SEE YA'LL LOVIES NEXT YEAR!!! (Also watch out I might do a story on another very emotional song. But it might be too close to this so I'll let you be the judge. River by Eminem ft Ed Sheeran. Sorry for the music dump I told ya'll I have an addiction and if I didn't now you know so almost every title in any of my stories is based off of lyrics or songs half my stories too.[I will forever think that Bilbo sounds like Ed Sheeran when he sings])


	15. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay i was actually on vacation. I took my fiance to disneyland for the first time and i totally forgot to get a chapter up before that and then I came home and my modem broke so now i'm using my hot spot to get this up. Also if any of you are interested in pictures I'll be more then happy to put those on my tumblr.  
> Warnings:  
> None :D

It had taken weeks for Bilbo to completely recover. It was a miracle that that had even happened, Thorin was told. They had said that this was very common, but it still had a high mortality rate of an infection of his level. Thorin had taken home plenty of pamphlets and did extensive reading while he wasn’t in the hospital with Bilbo. When he wasn’t at home preparing it for Bilbo, he was with him during visiting hours. The nurses knew him by name and often offered up genuine conversation while they tended to Bilbo. One even went as far as to bringing him meals at the same time as Bilbo. He had no doubt that she had been remanded for that, but she brought them to him anyways. And despite his opposition to her getting in trouble, she wouldn’t take no for an answer, no matter the consequences.

While Bilbo was at the hospital he spent most of his time recovering and sleeping, but sometimes when he was stir crazy for something more than just sitting in bed, they would hold meetings in the garden with their public attorney. He was a cocky man, but from what Thorin had heard he was good at what he did so he let the man have his smirks and somewhat harsh comments slide. They were never projected at Bilbo, so he wouldn’t ever intervene.

They had to make sure that their case was solid, so the jury wouldn’t have any difficulty convicting Smaug of his heinous acts. Thorin wouldn’t testify, for reasons that seemed perfectly logical, but Thorin knew it was because he was the most likely to lose his temper. But Dwalin and Bilbo would take the stand and it was Bilbo that Thorin was worried the most about. Having to endure the trauma of living with Smaug was bad enough, but to have to relive it with any amount of doubt that what he did and would potentially continue doing was not convicted, despite that Bilbo had to postpone the trail because he was in the hospital and was on restricted bed duty. It angered Thorin to know end and he clenched his fist tighter around the broom handle as he spent the afternoon cleaning his house to pass inspection by the hospital. He didn’t want there to be any way for Smaug to get Bilbo back into his grasp.

He wiped his forehead as he found another patch of dust from one of the rooms that he nearly never went into. A majority of the room in his house was left untouched as he either never had company or what little he did never spent any time at home. He didn’t like having his nephews cooped up in the house, either because they would destroy everything in their stir crazy frenzy or because they were just kids and needed as much outdoor exercise as they could get, Thorin had a hard time deciphering sometimes.

_“Uncle Thorin!” The boys came running through the hallway. Sometimes he regretted giving his sister a spare key, then she could throw surprise attacks while he was least expecting his little nephews to come barreling down the door as they impatiently awaited their reclusive uncle. He was in the garden when he heard them yelling. Their footsteps following their happy laughter throughout the house until Fili peered out the window at him kneeling in the dirt. He was trying his hand at flowers since he had no hope to grow his own vegetables it seemed. He grinned sardonically as he thought about himself being a farmer in any other era._

_He heard the back door open and he started to get up, dusting off his knees, but before he could even get out of a squat he landed face first into the freshly tilled dirt. Two small bodies clung to him as he pushed himself up. His hair falling no doubt to the same fate as his beard as he rubbed his face on his bicep as he tried not to eat any dirt. Meanwhile a chorus of ‘Uncle Thorins’ sounded from above him and he could faintly hear the laughter of his sister from in the dining room. He finally managed to get into the standing position. He wrapped his arms around his rambunctious nephews. Covering them from head to toe in the same dirt he had fallen into. He could hear his sisters laughter die instantly. He openly smirked at his sister._

_He set down his nephews, but they continued to bounce around at his feet. They walked back up into the house and he held his arms out to greet his sister. Obvious dirt stains on his shirt and knees. She shook her head, backing away._

_“I don’t have time to change and you better not come after me.” She remarked. Thorin sighed and washed his hands. He pulled the step stool out and demanded that his nephews do the same. With much groaning they finally obliged and began to wash their hands with little to no splashing and soap suds ending up on the window or floor._

_“Five today?” Thorin watched his nephews as he addressed his sister._

_“Maybe as late as six thirty, I have an inspection today at one of the homes.” As a realtor Dis had plenty of money to pay for a sitter, but Thorin refused to let her do that when he homebody brother had nothing better to do. They always enjoyed when he would let them use his studio. So long as what he was currently working on was put away and out of sight. He even kept quite a few of their pieces. They hung around the room. It seemed like a better use of the space rather than the myriad of his half finished, half cocked ideas._

An alarm pulled Thorin out of his daydreaming and he looked down at his phone. It was almost time for his last meeting with Bilbo and Barba before the trail. And then if tomorrows inspection went well, then Thorin could take Bilbo home. If he still saw the creaky, way too big house as his home. He gave one last look out the dining room window where the starts of irises began to sprout in the otherwise well saturated dirt of the garden. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i got a little bit of plot but mostly its just cute Fili and Kili nonsense because I love baby Fili and Kili. Someday they will meet their uncle Bilbo. As soon as this trial is all well and done and no more threats from Smaug. For now. Also Irises, for those of you who don't know mean Your Friendship Means so Much to Me, Faith, Hope, Wisdom and Valor. Just a little....something something to slip in there.


	16. What About Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that my internet is back I can go back to regular updates.  
> With that being said here comes a douzy. Sorry.  
> Ps Sorry for anyone who had to read this before I somehow put the chapters in the right order....it was 1:30 am so I'm blaming that.  
> Warnings:  
> Mentions of Rape  
> Mentions of Abuse  
> Mentions of Justifiable Rape/Abuse  
> Language  
> Violence  
> Trauma

Bilbo took a deep breath as he washed his hands. He looked himself in the mirror and tried to calm his nerves. Thorin was waiting outside in the instance that anything happened. He took a few more deep breaths to keep himself from puking. Hopefully he wouldn’t be called to the stand today. It would go by much easier if he didn’t have to go up on the stand today. He didn’t think he would be able to look anyone in the eye after being hospitalized for so long. Some portions he couldn’t even recall. The door opened and Thorin stood there.

“We’re starting.” Bilbo saw the slight tremor in his hand and tried to hide it before Thorin noticed. He gave a weak smile and walked out of the bathroom. Barba was waiting for them at the doors.

“Ready?” He asked when they approached. His voice was surprisingly soft, in almost every encounter he had with the counselor he was cocky and stern in his approach, but now he seemed sympathetic to Bilbo. The police lady that Bilbo had been picked up by was also there. He vaguely remembered her name being Olivia. She smiled warmly at him and opened the door for the group. Bilbo nodded at her in thanks and he sat down in the front pew. Barba continued up to the table in front of him. Thorin sat next to him and Olivia on his other side. He held his hands clasped in his lap and watched as they brought in the defense attorney followed by Smaug. Bilbo kept his eyes down, but he could still feel Smaug’s eyes on him. They all stood when the judge came out and the next thing Bilbo knew they were already calling Olivia to the stand. Someone shifted behind him and he turned slightly to see Dwalin behind him. He wondered for a second if he was going to take the stand.

He remembered Thorin telling him about what had happened while Bilbo was being transported from the Moria General Hospital. He didn’t remember any of that actually happening since he had been unconscious for the most of the six hour drive. Olivia took the stand after taking her oath and they began the questioning. Bilbo watched with apprehension as the defense attorney questioned Olivia. She was stoic and powerful, determined to put Smaug behind bars. She seemed unfazed by the questions and the intensity of being on the stand. Bilbo counted to ten and then back to one in his head as they called Dwalin to the stand. After taking his oath he got on the stand.

He wore his police uniform, branding himself as an Ereborian police officer. The defense attorney paced the courtroom as he questioned Dwalin. Bilbo purposefully avoided looking at Smaug and instead looked between Dwalin, the judge, and the jury.

“Barba the witness is yours to question.” Barba stood up, buttoning his jacket.

“Officer Fundinson,” He took a few steps in front of his table. “Can you describe the night that you witnessed the defendant trespassing on your property?” Whispers rose from Smaug’s table. Bilbo tried his best to avoid it. Barba seemed to hear it as well and stole a glance before returning his attention to Dwalin.

“I was asleep. It was raining. I heard something moving around by my window so I got up to investigate. I grabbed my maglite and shone it out the window. That’s when I saw a man outside my window.” Dwalin looked over at Smaug and Bilbo stole a glance. He was writing furiously on a piece of paper and slapped it in front of his attorney. Barba looked behind him and then back at Dwalin. “I went outside to see if I could catch him, but he climbed my fence before I could get to him.” There was more whispering, this time louder. Bilbo could almost make out words. He noticed the judge’s confusion.

“Can you identify the man who was seen outside your room that night?” Barba started to trail off his question as he looked behind himself to Smaug. Dwalin pointed to Smaug. “Let it be noted by the jury that the man has been identified as the defendant Smaug Black.” Barba walked in front of the jury. He looked over at Smaug as he sat, somewhat fidgety in his seat. Bilbo noticed Olivia move closer to him and Thorin straightened a little bit next to him. A tense feeling began to stir in the courtroom and it was less about the case and more about the discussion between the defense. Bilbo noticed the jury turn their attention from Dwalin to the defense’s table.

“Does the defense have an objection to make?” The judge tersely addressed the disruption in the courtroom. Silence fell on the courtroom. All eyes on the defense. Bilbo kept his eyes on his feet below him.

“Your Honor may I approach the bench?” Both Smaug and his attorney spoke at the same time. The pause that followed made Bilbo’s heart stop. His leg began to shake and he dared a glance up. The judge had a smoldering look upon his face and Barba was looking between Bilbo and the judge.

“Mr. Grant, please get your client under control.” The judge nodded and both Barba and Mr. Grant walked up to the bench. They began to speak hurriedly. The judge was silently nodding, but his disapproval at a disorganized court was evident on his face. A few people were talking quietly to each other while the two attorneys reconvened at their tables.

“The court is going to take a fifteen minute recess.” The gavel banged and everyone started to stand up. Barba gathered up his supplies and walked frantically after the judge to his chambers followed by Smaug and Mr. Grant. Olivia and Thorin were both pressed to his side as they made their way into the lobby.

“What’s going on?” Bilbo asked, his panic could be heard deep in the recesses of his throat. Olivia had him sit down, but Thorin chose to stand next to him.

“I can’t be sure.” She sounded sincere. “Barba should be out shortly to tell us what’s going on.” The lobby was a buzz of talking as Bilbo tried not to notice how people would shoot glances his way. Bilbo turned to Thorin.

“Could you get me some water?” Bilbo gave a weak smile. Thorin looked at Olivia for a second before walking off. He waited until Thorin was out of earshot before he spoke. “I’m scared, Olivia.” Bilbo doubted she heard him. He could feel her eyes on him. He resisted the urge to squirm or meet her gaze. She slowly sat next to him. She looked like she wanted to reach out and reassure him, but from every encounter they’ve had she knew it wasn’t wise to do so.

“I don’t blame you.” He waited for the rest of the speech in silence. But none came. She just gave him a reassuring smile and there was truth in her eyes. “Barba won’t let this guy go unpunished for the things he did to you.” Bilbo bit his lip and let one tear slip before he brushed his hair back, wiping the tear away simultaneously. If she noticed she didn’t comment. Bilbo soon heard Barba’s footstep approach and he dared a glance up. His face was troubled. His eyes were soft on Bilbo, but his body was rigged with tension.

“Smaug’s going to represent himself.” Bilbo stared at Barba in horror. He felt compelled to stand, to get away, to run, but Thorin was walking back with a cup of water. His face shifted slightly as he took in Bilbo’s appearance.

“What does that mean?” Bilbo asked, he had a vague idea, but he didn’t really want to give light to his worst nightmare. Barba and Olivia looked at Thorin when he walked up, handing Bilbo the cup of water that Bilbo held greedily. He didn’t take a sip he simply held it tight as he shook in his seat.

“It means he’s going to be cross-examining you.”Bilbo felt his heart stop and he dropped his cup of water. He stood up as fast as he could and tried to get past Barba and Thorin, but each of them had a tight hold on him.

“Bilbo, it’s going to be okay.” Thorin was whispering in his ear in an attempt to calm him down. His mind and heart were racing where his legs couldn’t. He calmed down enough to warrant Thorin and Barba to let go of him. He held onto himself as Barba explained to Thorin what would be going on. Thorin looked furious. Thorin knew the law. He worked long enough with Dwalin to realize that was just wasn’t always fair. Making a victim have to relive the same trauma that put them on the stand to begin with was something that came with the territory and a precaution that didn’t always ensure a swift victory.

“I will be there to make any objections that he thinks he can get away with.” Barba took a step back to give Bilbo the space he needed. Bilbo saw someone standing off to the side and saw Dwalin talking with Bofur and a smaller man he didn’t recognize. They began to call people back into the courtroom. Barba and Olivia gave each other a look before they both headed back into the court room. Thorin was still standing next to him.

“I’ll be right here. If anything happens just look at me. Don’t look at him.” Thorin let Bilbo walk first into the court room. Olivia sat in her previous seat and Bilbo sat next to her with Thorin on his other side. Before too long court was back in session and Dwalin was back on the stand. Barba finished questioning him from previously without anyone speaking up as the conversation between witness and lawyer played out. Nobody made a move as the defense called their third witness. Bofur walked from the pews up to the stand. Smaug stood in front of the judge not looking at Bofur. His eyes were firmly trained on Bilbo and he tried to take calming breaths. Bofur took oath and got onto the stand with Smaug still standing, staring at Bilbo. Bilbo could feel the protective nature of both Olivia and Thorin encompass him, but it did little to keep the dread out of his heart.

“Mr. Black, the witness is yours.” The judge snapped. His patience obviously running thin as Smaug pressed his limits.

“Of course, Your Honor, my apologies.” Smaug turned to Bofur. Bofur looked a little bored to be on the stand. He _was_ always more comfortable in the coffee shop. “Mr. Nesbitt how do you know Bilbo Baggins?” Bofur looked into the crowd at Bilbo.

“He works at my coffee shop.” Bofur said proudly. Smaug nodded.

“Would you say he likes working at your coffee shop?” Bofur thought for a second. Finally he answered,

“Yes believe he enjoys working there, more than he enjoyed being with you.” Smaug snapped his eyes up to look at Bofur. The judge looked reluctant to do so, but he commented that Bofur to only answer the question that’s been asked.

“Did Bilbo ever explicitly tell you that he was unhappy in his relationship?” Bofur looked ready to make another quip, but a look from the judge stopped him.

“No.” Smaug walked back towards his table in an absent way.

“So could it be possible that the coworker you had for six months was simply just shy?” Barba looked up from his pad of paper.

“Objection, speculation.” Smaug looked from Barba to the judge.

“Overruled.” The judge looked down at Smaug. “I’m letting you have some length to your leash, but do not forget you still have one.” Smaug nodded and proceeded. Bofur began his answer again,

“Possibly.” Bofur scratched at his beard, crossing his arms as he leaned back in the chair.

“Did Mr. Baggins ever make mention that he was being abused in his home life?” Bofur shook his head. “Verbal responses please for the stenographer.” Smaug sounded slightly smug.

“No, he did not.” Smaug nodded slowly. Bilbo kept his eyes on Bofur.

“Did he ever come into work with bruises or signs of abuse?” Bofur got a little tense and moved in his seat.

“Not that I could see.” Smaug quickly looked at his attorney before turning back to Bofur.

“Yes or no.” Bofur took a deep breath.

“I don’t require my employees to strip down and show me their skin as a part of the job.” Bofur was still tense and Bilbo thought he heard him scratching his nails on the wood. Barba seemed content to let Bofur be adverse to Smaug.

“Mr. Nesbitt, if you continue to be antagonistic I’m going to have to declare you a hostile witness.” Bofur grumbled before he nodded to the judge. “The jury will disregard the witness’ last statement. Mr. Black you may continue.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Smaug turned back to Bofur. Bilbo wondered what Smaug was planning on doing. “I’ll repeat the question. Did Mr. Baggins ever come into work with bruises or signs of abuse?” Bofur obviously didn’t like this line of questioning, but he listened to the judge’s warning.

“No.” Bilbo looked over at the jury. Their faces were blank slates as they listened to Bofur’s responses.

“So, he never came in with signs of abuse, never told you he was being abused, and you never saw anything between myself and Mr. Baggins that would indicate that he was being abused,” Smaug looked at the jury. A woman on the jury moved in her seat and Bilbo saw the discomfort on her face. “So it’s safe to say you didn’t know anything about your employee?” Bofur went to respond, but Barba beat him to it.

“Objection, argumentative.” The judge took a moment before he answered.

“Sustained.” He looked pointedly at Smaug.

“Let me rephrase,” Smaug turned in a slow circle. “Any thought you had that Bilbo was being abused was based on your bias of myself?”

“Yes.” Smaug smiled slightly.

“The same bias you have for me today?” Bofur didn’t hesitate in answering.

“Yes.” Smaug looked at the jury before returning to his table.

“The witness is yours Mr. Barbie.” Barba stood up glaring at Smaug. “Barba, excuse me.” Barba fixed his jacket before putting his hands on the table leaning over it threateningly.

“Mr. Nesbitt, six months is a long time.” Bofur nodded silently. “Would you say you had a good idea of who Mr. Baggins was as a person?”

“Yes, he was very closed off, but that’s to be expected as someone who was in an abusive relationship.” The judge opened his mouth to speak, but Smaug beat him to it.

“Objection.” The judge nodded.

“The jury will disregard that last statement.” Barba raised an eyebrow at Bofur. Bofur took a deep breath. Maybe he was intentionally being disagreeable to get off the stand.

“Mr. Nesbitt,” Barba stood up straight and walked into the courtroom. “Is it true that in one of the encounters you had with Mr. Black was when he came in with the police to your coffee shop?”

“Yes it is.” Bilbo remembered that day. One of the many instances that had him distrust the police.

“Can you tell the court why they came in with Mr. Black?” Bofur nodded encouragingly.

“The police were there to notify of an investigation they would be conducting against me.” Barba looked at Smaug.

“And what would they be investigating?” Barba took a few steps towards Smaug’s table. Bilbo could see the spite in Barba’s face.

“Mr. Black accused me of harassing Bilbo. The police were there to take him from work as part of the investigation.” Barba nodded looking back at Bofur.

“How were you found on the charges of harassment in the work place?”Bofur leaned in close to the microphone, Bilbo thought maybe even his lips were touching. His breath came in heavily over the speakers.

“Innocent.” He leaned back looking smug. “More than I can say for _Mr. Black_.” The judge didn’t say anything, but both Barba and the judge shot Bofur a look.

“So there would be cause for your distrust in Mr. Black based on previous encounters?” Barba’s voice tilted towards the end of his question as if begging for someone to say something about the line of questioning. His begging would be answered as Smaug piped up,

“Objection, what’s the purpose of this line of questioning?” Barba turned around with a smug smile on his face,

“Just showing that Bofur’s cause for suspecting you of being the aggressor is not based on own personal bias, but more on the wellbeing and general care of Mr. Baggins.” Barba kept his eyes firmly trained on Smaug as the judge allowed him to continue with Bofur’s questioning. “Would you like me to repeat the question?” Bofur shook his head.

“No that won’t be necessary.” Bofur leaned close to the microphone. “Yes, there would be a cause to my distrust in Mr. Black.” Barba turned back to Bofur.

“Then, why is it that you have reason to suspect that Mr. Baggins, despite not hearing him say he was abused or seeing any visible marks on him, is a victim of abuse at the hands of Mr. Smaug?” Barba looked from the jury to Bofur.

“Well when I interviewed him I had seen that he had had several jobs prior to working to for me, but I decided to give him a shot. When I interviewed him I essentially interviewed Mr. Black since he demanded that he be in the room when I did the interview.” Bofur put his hands out in front of him. “A little odd, but I blew it off until I began the interview and Mr. Baggins seemed to be following some sort of script. Like someone had had him rehearse every line before coming into the interview.” Bofur explained, looking occasionally at the jury. “Anyways, when I did hire Mr. Baggins he had a written note from his ‘psychiatrist’ that he had to have a very strict schedule that didn’t defer. Meaning no overtime, no early shifts, and any change in schedule would have to be approved by his ‘psychiatrist’.” Bofur shook his head. “I still kept him on since after a few weeks I began to suspect it wasn’t from a supposed psychiatrist since I was never given a number to call to change Mr. Baggins schedule and it all had to be verbal exchanges from myself to Mr. Baggins.” Barba sat down at his table to look quickly at his notes. Bofur continued, “After working with him for six months I had decided that he wasn’t shy, but instead he wasn’t in a safe situation, but I never had enough evidence to do anything about it.” Bofur sounded sincerely sorry for not being able to help. Bilbo looked down at his feet.

He felt his lower lip quiver, but he pressed his lips together and willed his emotions to calm themselves. He wasn’t even on the stand yet. Barba looked up at Bofur one last time.

“Thank you Mr. Nesbitt, no more questions, Your Honor.” Bofur came down from the stand and Barba began writing in his note pad.

“Mr. Black you may call your next witness.” The judge looked down at Smaug, who had began to stand. He got halfway up before he reared his head to Bilbo. He gave a sickening smile. Barba turned back to look worriedly at Bilbo. Thorin looked like he was ready to jump over the small fence that bordered the courtroom and attack Smaug, but he kept himself in check. Smaug turned back to the judge.

“You know what, Your Honor, I’m a bit peckish.” He sat back down. “I request that we take a recess before I call my last witness.” The judge leaned back in his seat. He took a deep breath before he responded.

“Fine, court will resume after lunch.”

xXx

Bilbo

Bilbo didn’t eat as he should have on a lunch. He was too shaken up. He knew Smaug was going to call him to the stand. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything if he was going to be interrogated by Smaug. He could feel the bile rise in the back of his throat as he leaned over the counter. He watched as the water spiraled down the drain. He heard the door open, but he didn’t bother to look up. He expected it to be Thorin, but it was that man that Bilbo saw talking to Dwalin earlier. He passed by him as Bilbo watched him in the mirror. He swallowed down another bout of nausea. He ran his hands under the water and splashed his face. He turned off the water and dried his hands. He leaned with his back against the wall with the paper towel dispenser, closing his eyes.

He heard footsteps approach then the sound of running water. “You must be Bilbo.” Bilbo’s eyes shot open. He racked his brain but he couldn’t place this man’s face. Bilbo stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say. “Don’t worry, my husband has told me all about you.” The man finished washing his hands and Bilbo moved out of his way so he could dry his hands. Once his hands were dried he held out his hand for Bilbo to take. He didn’t take it. “I’m Bard, Thranduil’s husband.” Bilbo looked at him in astonishment.

“I didn’t even see him here.” Bilbo stuttered out. Bard shrugged.

“He isn’t, but he wanted to be. He was supposed to be one of your attorney’s witnesses, but he couldn’t get the time off, and with Legolas…” Bard threw away the paper towels he had crumpled in his hands. “But he still wanted to be here, so I came instead and I’m going to go home and tell him about it.” Bard had a conflicted countenance as he stared at Bilbo. “I hope I get to report good news to him.” Bilbo gave a humorless laugh.

“Yeah…” His voice was full of doubt and sadness. He didn’t know what he would do if Smaug got away with what he had done. Not even with the assaults, but for taking him from the one true happiness he had in his grasp. Bard looked like he wanted to reassure or comfort Bilbo, but he simply pressed his lips together and gave one nod of his head.

“He did want me to tell you that you were welcome to the library any time.” Bilbo gave a half smile at that. “They were just about to open the doors when I came in, so I guess I’ll see you in there.” Bard gave him one last look before he walked out. Bilbo gave himself one last look in the mirror before he walked out. He nearly ran into Barba as he did.

“Sorry.” They said simultaneously.

“We’re going back in. Are you going to be alright?” Bilbo shook his head no,

“But I am determined to get him out of my life for good.” Barba gave a sharp nod. He walked away first and Bilbo followed. He saw Olivia and Thorin waiting for him where they usually sat. Olivia on one side and Thorin on the other. Bilbo squeezed between them and court resumed.

“Your next witness, Mr. Black.” Smaug stood up. Bilbo felt his hands begin to shake and he took deep breaths of air to suppress his nausea.

“I’d like to call Bilbo to the stand.” Barba and the judge gave Smaug a disapproving look. “I’m sorry, _Mr. Baggins_.” Smaug looked back at Bilbo. Bilbo stood up and walked towards the courtroom. He steeled his nerves in his best attempt to get his legs to move forward instead of turning around and making for the nearest state line. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he walked to the stand. The bailiff stood in front of Bilbo and instructed him to raise his right hand.

“Do you solemnly affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, under pains and penalties of perjury?” The bailiff looked at him with a blank expression.

“I solemnly affirm that I will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, under pains and penalties of perjury.” Bilbo put his right hand down and he led himself to the stand. He sat down and held his hands firmly in his lap. He gave a quick glance at the judge and he thought he saw concern on the man’s face, but it was gone before Bilbo could dwell on it. Smaug stood and walked into the middle of the court room. Barba looked ready to object just for Smaug being too close to the stand.

“Hello, Bilbo. How was lunch?” Smaug gave a smug smile. His teeth reminding him of a grave yard.

“Mr. Black, you will remain strictly professional when speaking to your witness.” The judge’s tone made it clear his patience was wearing thin.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor, old habits die hard.” He dared to look at Bilbo like some sort of prized possession. Bilbo ground his teeth, but didn’t say anything. “Mr. Baggins, we’ve been together for over two years, correct?”

“We _were_ together for over two years.” Bilbo was surprised at the strength in his voice. He kept his eyes off of Smaug. Either on Barba or Thorin. Both had a mix of worry and sharpness whenever Smaug made a movement towards Bilbo.

“This is new to me, I was under the impression we were still together.” Smaug looked at the jury with a joking smile.

“Objection, relevance, Your Honor?” Barba gripped the pen in his hand.

“Sustained, move it along, Mr. Black.” Smaug nodded.

“Over two years, that’s a long time.” Smaug began his line of questioning again. “That’s a long time to put up with said abuse.” Smaug turned to Bilbo. Bilbo focused on his folded hands. “Why didn’t you notify someone sooner about this _abuse_?” Bilbo felt a combination of anger and fear boil up inside of him.

“I did, but they didn’t believe me.” Bilbo began to twist his hands together to calm himself down.

“Is it because you have a mental illness or because it simply isn’t true?” Bilbo could hear his voice getting closer and his anger rose as he drew closer.

“I didn’t have a mental illness before I met you.” Smaug looked at the judge.

“Mr. Baggins, you have to answer the question at hand.” His voice was soft as he spoke over the bench.

“They didn’t believe me because you’re a good liar.” Smaug took a step closer. It was as if he was purposefully obscuring his sight of Thorin and Barba. Bilbo got anxious as he lost sight of Thorin.

“Liar? You’re the one who stayed with a so called abusive partner for over two years. What stopped you from leaving?” Smaug looked at the jury briefly before returning his attention to Bilbo.

“You did.” Smaug gave a sad smile.

“Are you sure you didn’t leave because you were happy to use me while you went and cheated on every other gay man that came your way?” Bilbo was going to snap a reply, but Barba beat him to it.

“Objection!” His voice rose as Smaug pressed his boundaries with his questioning.

“Sustained.”

“Withdrawn. Why did you have so many jobs when you were with me then?” Bilbo clenched his jaw, but answered none the less.

“Because you would find some reason to make me quit or get my boss to let me go.” Smaug took a few steps back and looked at the jury, walking in front of them, letting Bilbo catch sight of Thorin once more.

“Would you say that your mental illness impairs you from recalling certain memories?” Bilbo gritted his teeth. His pulse raced in his ears and he fought every instance in him to jump from the stand and flee.

“Yes, but that doesn’t make me a liar. I only have PTSD after what you did to me. I was told to take a psych eval before taking the stand and they diagnosed me with PTSD.” Bilbo hurried out as he looked at the jury pleadingly. Their blank faces returning his gaze.

“What I did to you?” Smaug turned again, but stayed where he was in front of the jury. “I took you in, moved you to the city, took care of you while you were bouncing from job to job, living under my roof.” Smaug took one step towards Bilbo. “I was unaware that a loving partner could cause PTSD.” Smaug looked mock shocked. Bilbo knew that Barba was going to object, but his anger fueled his reply.

“You didn’t love me! You used me! You abused me!” Bilbo’s voice raised with each sentence. “You raped me! Kidnapped me!” Bilbo was shaking.

“I didn’t kidnap me. You came with me willingly.” Smaug’s voice was full of indigence. He took another step toward Bilbo. His heart raced much like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights. Each second passing was the finger pulling back on the trigger, waiting for the inevitable bang.

“You held a gun to my head.” Bilbo snapped.

“Objection!” Barba stood up and tried to break up the line of questioning, but Smaug wouldn’t hear it.

“Raped you? I never once heard you say ‘no’.” Smaug took long strides to stand in front of Bilbo. Bilbo could faintly hear the judge command something over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears at having Smaug stand right in front of him. “You liked every second of it, but instead of being labeled as a slut for going from man to man you’d rather put the blame on me.”

“Objection! Your Honor!” Barba kept yelling.

“I’d rather die than have you touch me again!” Bilbo yelled. Tears streaming down his face and his body shaking with fear. He tried to look around to look at Thorin. Smaug turned back to look at Thorin as well which gave Bilbo the perfect angle to see Thorin’s face. He was stiff, but his face was furious. Dwalin had his hands on Thorin’s shoulders, almost as if he had to stop him from coming after Smaug. Olivia had her hand on her hip and Bilbo didn’t know what it meant. Smaug looked back at Bilbo with a disgusted gaze,

“I wouldn’t want to touch something that’s been raped anyways.” Smaug spat at Bilbo. Bilbo was still for a second before he even realized that he was reaching out. His nails connected with Smaug’s face and Smaug was being pulled away by the bailiff. He had his eyes closed and Bilbo thought he saw blood start to well up before he closed his eyes as Barba ran to the stand and was beside Bilbo pulling him from the stand. Bilbo continued to sob into Barba’s chest as he asked him questions he didn’t have answers to. Bilbo thought he heard the judge bang the gavel, but everything was a mess in Bilbo’s head as his anxiety spear headed and he began to hyperventilate before fainting all together. The last thing he knew was that he was falling, but many arms were around him preventing him from hitting the ground.

xXx

“Jury have you reached a verdict?” The judge put the note face down on the bench.

“We have, Your Honor.” The head juror stood. “On the charge of rape in first, we find the defendant guilty.” Bilbo nearly sobbed in relief. “On the charge of kidnapping, we find the defendant guilty.” Olivia patted Bilbo’s hand carefully. “On the charge of aggravated stalking, we find the defendant guilty.” Bilbo squeezed Olivia’s hand and leaned into Thorin. The judge nodded.

“Smaug Black, you will be sentenced to life without possibility of parole in Moria State Penitentiary. This court is adjourned.” The judge banged the gavel and Smaug was put into cuffs and walked out of the courtroom. He looked back at Bilbo the entire time, which unsettled him, but he knew that he would finally be free of him. Bilbo was led out of the court room but Thorin and Olivia and when Barba came out Bilbo walked to meet him.

“Thank you.” Bilbo choked out, trying not to cry. Barba tilted his head with a soft look.

“You did all the hard work in there.” Bilbo gave a stuttered laugh, but a laugh none the less.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that hopefully it'll get better. Shit i don't know any more I just write it. If any of you don't think I did a good enough job of recreating the absolute horror of what this is like go ahead and take a looksie over at Law and Order SVU season 14 episode 18 "Legitimate Rape". It ain't fun but let me tell you it's kind of the direction I was trying to go for. Also so sorry for this taking so long, it fought me the whole way. But it's a longer one so I'm hoping that makes up for it. If anyone has any clarifying questions I will be more than happy to answer them for you as I know the legal system is kind of a wild ride. Sorry for all the dialogue, but it's a court case, and this will probably be the most dialogue in the entire story so there's that. If I have any continuity mistakes then let me know, it's nearly 1 am and I just want to give you guys this chapter and I'll fix any mistakes later.


	17. Shrike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been a while. Sorry about that. It's been.....rough. But I got a new job that gives me weekends off and doesn't treat me like a corporate machine so now I have time to write and guess what I'm actually working at warehouse where I provide books for libraries. Yeah so that's literally the dream. Anyways, here's the long awaited chapter. Thank you all for the continued love and I would love to hear from you all again.   
> Sincerely,  
> Faith

Eight Months Later

Bilbo

It was warm for a February in the highlands. The backyard was thawed from the last storm and the sun shone brightly in the sky as everyone laughed between the dining room and the backyard. Kids ran through the kitchen laughing.

“Fili! Kili! Don’t trip up Bilbo!” Dis hollered from her position on the porch. The man in question just waved her on from the window in the kitchen. Fili, Kili, and Legolas played in the backyard, running between the barren trees and the open grass of the fenced in area. Dis and Bard were wrapped up in heavy conversation, unperturbed by their children currently staining their clothes in the grass. Legolas – now seven – towered over the two boys. His long blond hair getting tinged with green and flecks of brown. His smile was wide as Kili jumped on his back, Legolas seemingly effortlessly carrying the four year old around the backyard. Dwalin, Thandruil, and Thorin were in a heated debate about governing styles. Bilbo and Ori were effortlessly dancing around each other in the kitchen as the prepped lunch for everyone. Small comments here and there, but they kept mostly quiet.

Bilbo had taken a long time to adjust back into normal life after the trial. He continued to sleep in the spare bedroom at Thorin’s place, but he would often join Thorin while he painted in his studio. In his best interest Thorin paid for Bilbo to see a psychiatrist. Dr. Fundinson – Dwalin’s older brother – was highly recommended and no doubt took a little allowance on the fact his little brother had been the one to make the referral. Ori came up next to Bilbo and nudged him a little. Physical touches didn’t bother him as much as they did, but he would still find himself jumping at unexpected, loud noises. Something this house was all too familiar with between Thorin’s clumsiness and the boys spending more and more time over here. Dr. Fundinson said the children could help him. Something Bilbo didn’t expect or believe. He didn’t think he’d ever recover from the trauma that Smaug had inflicted on him.

“Dwalin and I got approved.” Bilbo turned in shock at Ori.

“Oh Ori!” Bilbo then covered his mouth and looked at his friend.

“Dwalin doesn’t know.” Bilbo could barely contain his delight. “I got the call the other day and I wanted to know if you’d help me throw a surprise party.” Bilbo dropped his hand from his mouth and hugged his friend.

“Yes!” Bilbo felt tears well up in his eyes, but he suppressed them. He let go of Ori real quick as Dwalin came into the kitchen. If he was suspicious of the interaction he didn’t comment on it. Bilbo washed his hands and called out from the kitchen. “Lunch is ready!” He began grabbing glass containers of food and taking them out the porch where they had set up a small table to hold the food. Dis and Bard called to their children to get washed up. Blades of grass sticking out of all of their hair.

“Uncle Bilbo!” Fili and Kili yelled as they came up the stairs to the porch. “Can you help us wash up?” Bilbo smiled and gave shot Dis a glance. She had a fond smile on her face that was mixed with her exasperation with her children.

“Sure, boys, come on.” Bilbo grabbed Fili and Kili’s hands as he led them to the kitchen. Fili easily reached the sink as he had two years of growth on his younger brother. Kili’s head barely cleared the counter as he stood to assess the height. He stood with his hands on his hips before turning around and putting his hands in the air as he silently motioned for Bilbo to pick him up. Bilbo grabbed the young boy under the arms and brought him to the sink. Kili gladly began to wash his hands with soap and water. Humming under his breath as he did so. Once he was finished Bilbo set him down and the boys ran to the porch. Thorin was dishing out the boys plates. Bilbo came up behind him and put his hand on the middle of his back as he passed by. Bilbo grabbed a plate and began to laden it with food. Cooking having worked up an appetite. He seated himself between Dis and Bard. Once Thorin was done fixing his plate he sat next to Dwalin across from Bilbo on the porch. Bilbo shot him a shy smile and Thorin mouthed the words ‘thank you’.

Thorin

Having Bilbo back in his home had kept him from many sleepless nights, but he still wasn’t completely healed from the damage that the trial, the kidnapping, just Smaug in general had wracked on him. He could hear him some nights wandering the rooms, no doubt nightmares still plaguing his mind. Thorin kept his door open now to extend an unspoken invitation to join him if Bilbo ever needed the comfort. He never took him up on the offer. Thorin didn’t let that linger in his mind. Bilbo was hardly stable and Thorin’s personal feelings had to take a back burner while Bilbo healed.

After one night of some idle chatter between Dwalin, his friend had suggested he send him to his brother. It would be another two weeks before Thorin could even broach the question with Bilbo.

_Bilbo was sitting at the table, his eyes scanning the pages of a book. Thorin stood in the kitchen, staring out the window. His knuckles were white as he gripped the counter. He didn’t want to press an issue if there wasn’t an issue to be had._

_“What’s eating you?” Bilbo’s voice broke the silence, as soft as it was. Thorin was a little relieved that Bilbo broached the question._

_“Do you think you’d be willing to see a psychiatrist?” His question was met with more silence. He waited with baited breath as Bilbo closed his book._

_“I can’t afford it.” He sounded defeated in his response._

_“Don’t worry about it.” Bilbo seemed to physically stiffen. Thorin was worried he’d crossed a line. He couldn’t possibly imagine what was running through Bilbo’s mind. He just prayed that it didn’t have anything to do with running._

_“I couldn’t – “ he cut himself off midsentence by standing up. Thorin dared a glance at Bilbo. He had his hands at his side and was shaking slightly. “I can’t expect you to take care of everything while I sit here.”_

_“You won’t be. You’ll be getting help.” Thorin kept his voice low and his tone even. “That’s what matters right now.” Bilbo sat back down and stared at the cover of his book._

_“Okay.” Thorin let go of the counter and flexed his fingers out of sight. Bilbo looked back up at him with a shy smile._

“Communism won’t work in this society.” Thorin was thrown back into reality by Dwalin’s declaration. He was only half listening as he watched Bilbo move about the kitchen. He was content on listening as he took in the smaller man. He had a blissful smile on his face as he stood around the stove with Ori helping him occasionally. The latter more content with sneaking food behind Bilbo’s back.

“Thorin.” Thandruil mused aloud. Thorin turned to look at the tree of a man.

“Hmm?” Thorin kept his eyes trained on Bilbo.

“You’ll bore holes into the man if you keep that up.” Thorin smirked, but looked back at the man none the less.

“Sue me, nerd.” The three unlikely men had taken a while to warm up to each other, but after being told what the librarian had done for Bilbo he couldn’t stay abrasive to him for long, even if he could be a pompous prick with his vast knowledge of ‘thousands of orators with much higher intellectual ability then Thorin and Dwalin combined’. A favorite line of his when they were learning to get along.

“How’s the adopting going, Dwalin?” Thandruil inquired. Thorin looked at his long time friend. He and Ori had been trying to adopt a child for quite some time now, but they were being scrutinized in regards to Dwalin’s profession. It was true that Dwalin was married to his job, but he loved Ori more than himself he knew. Thorin knew that whatever child was placed in their care would live with a family that only knows love and devotion. Although the thought of Dwalin changing diapers did give Thorin a chuckle when the subject matter came up. Even now he had a smirk on his face at the thought. Dwalin glared at him, but answered Thandruil.

“Haven’t heard back yet, they’re really hung up on me being a cop.” Dwalin took a sip of his tea as they all looked on.

“Maybe no news is good news.” All three of them sat in silence after that as they watched the kids play and Bilbo and Ori in the kitchen. Finally Bilbo called out for lunch and all three men jumped at the chance to eat. Thorin watched with a fond expression as Bilbo brought his nephews into the kitchen to wash up. Adoration on both of the little boy’s faces.

“Are Thorin and Bilbo like you dad?” Legolas whispered loudly into Thandruil’s ear.

“What do you mean by that son?” Dis had an amused look on her face as she knew what may come.

“Gay.” Legolas said with a confidence that only a seven year old could possess. The adults in the room laughed. Thorin got up to start plating food for the boys.

“Oh honey, everyone here is gay.” Dis interjected. Legolas sat down with a shocked look on his face.

“Am I gay?” More laughter brought up from the adults as Bilbo brought the boys back onto the porch.

“We’ll discuss this when you get older.” Thorin heard Bard whisper in Legolas’ ear. That seemed to satisfy Legolas, for now. Thorin’s felt the warmth of Bilbo’s hand on his back and he instinctively looked back with a dimwitted smile. He would be damned if anyone knew that he was a love struck fool. Bilbo passed by with ease and wedged himself between Dis and Bard. Thorin eventually got his own food and sat down next to Dwalin.

xXx

Thorin lay in bed, sprawled out under the thick blanket. The nights still cold despite the warming days. He heard a creak at the end of the hall and opened his eyes for a glance. He nearly jumped when he saw Bilbo standing at his door. He was wearing a robe and seemed to sense that he scared Thorin.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Bilbo said into the darkness. Thorin flicked on his bedside lamp and sat up on the edge of the bed.

“Are you okay?” Bilbo stood barefoot and shifting in the door frame. He had his hands on the ties of his robe, fidgeting with the knot. Bilbo didn’t respond as he took one step into Thorin’s room. He seemed to gain a little bit of courage as he stepped even further into his room. Thorin stood up and cautiously approached Bilbo. They both stood in the middle of the room staring at each other. Worry and concern written all over Thorin’s face. Bilbo was full of trepidation as he stood in front of Thorin. Bilbo took a deep breath and slowly reached his hand out to cup Thorin’s face. Thorin’s breath caught in his throat. He held perfectly still as not to break the spell that seemed to be cast on Bilbo. Bilbo took one step closer and he was now almost pressing on Thorin. Thorin continued to hold his hands at his side, wiling his body to behave while Bilbo’s eyes scanned Thorin’s face.

His other hand came up to slide across the left side of his abdomen. Thorin willed his erection to dismiss as he tried to calm his pulsing heart. Whatever had come over Bilbo had to be led by him and him alone. Thorin didn’t want to ruin whatever progress was being made right now by being too hasty. Bilbo climbed onto the balls of his feet and raised his head to Thorin’s. Thorin was breathing heavily now, his breath no doubt reaching Bilbo’s lips. And before he could think anymore about how his breath must be tickling Bilbo’s nose, Bilbo closed the final distance between them and pressed their lips together, oh so softly. Bilbo dug his fingers into Thorin’s hair and Thorin held back the groan that his fingers elicited from his lips. Bilbo pulled back for a moment.

“Is this okay?” Bilbo whispered. Thorin swallowed before replying.

“Are _you_ okay?” Bilbo looked him in the eye. His gaze unwavering,

“I’ve never been more sure about anything than this.” Bilbo moved his head up once again and pressed his lips to Thorin’s. This time more forcefully. Thorin brought his hands to Bilbo’s hips, relishing in how different they felt since the first time he brought him home. Fuller now that food is readily available and encouraged. Bilbo took another step forward, pressing his body fully to Thorin’s. Thorin could feel Bilbo’s own arousal pressing against his own. He stifled a groan as he moved his hands to Bilbo’s ass and lifted him up. Bilbo didn’t seem to mind as Thorin moved slowly to the edge of the bed, feeling it with his knees. He gently lay Bilbo down and hovered over the smaller man without breaking their kiss. Bilbo had his arms firmly wrapped around Thorin’s neck as they embraced. Thorin rest on his forearms as he leaned over Bilbo, conscious of his weight. Bilbo broke the kiss and looked into Thorin’s eyes.

“Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love guys. I'm so glad to find inspiration again, who thought that you just had to be overwhelmingly surrounded by books to find it again. Before I get ahead of myself the updates may still be sporadic as I get back into the swing but I am hopeful. Also don't worry I'll start up where I left off in the next chapter.


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